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W Quotes

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All W Quotes

“When my kids tell me "I can't do this dad", I smile and say it's okay. We sit down and we talk about it, I share some of my experiences with them and also let them know it's okay to fail but it is not okay to give before you have tried. One of the primary roles of a parent is to lend your kids some of your confidence enabling them to get their own.”

Life LessonsFatherLife QuotesParentingMindsetQuotes To Live ByPower Of WordsParenting AdviceParenting ChildrenFatherhood Parenting
Author:Sope Agbelusi
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“When my late father died — now I'm in mourning for my late mother — that sense of grief and bereavement suddenly taught me that so many things that I thought were important, externals, etc., all of that is irrelevant. You lose a parent, you suddenly realize what a slender thing life is, how easily you can lose those you love. Then out of that comes a new simplicity and that is why sometimes all the pain and the tears lift you to a much higher and deeper joy when you say to the bad times, "I will not let you go until you bless me.”

LifeJoyLossGriefImportanceSimplicityParentsGrievingMourningBereavementRelevance
Author:Jonathan Sacks
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“When my mama died," he said, without looking up, "the adults were always saying it would get easier." Beatrice knew that James's mother was dead, but he never talked about her, and she was surprised to hear him do so now. "That was a while ago," he went on, "And it's still ... well, I miss her. And I hate that she's not here. I feel like there's a big central piece that's been ripped out of me. I think the grown-ups lie to try to make you feel better, but it isn't true. It doesn't get easier. But you do get stronger, and that's ... well. It's something.”

DeathLossGriefBereavement
Author:Alexandra Bell
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“When my mom died, it felt like everyone I knew had a story about her. Every story was a different flavor of grief, a memory that would just pour out of people to absolve a wound far beneath the skin. To make sense of something that couldn't make sense. As they talked, I would wonder if it was for me or for them, the stories slowly becoming empty words. Empty words passing over lips in an attempt to reconcile a loss that couldn't be reconciled.”

Grief
Author:Rachael Lippincott
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“When my mother didn't come back I realized that any moment could be the last. Nothing in life should simply be a passage from one place to another. Each walk should be taken as if it is the only thing you have left. You can demand something like this of yourself as an unattainable ideal. After that, you have to remind yourself about it every time you're sloppy about something. For me that means 250 times a day.”

IfsShouldMeanMomentsLastsMotherLeftWalksTakenDemandIdealsI RealizedPassagesUnattainableSloppy
Author:Peter Høeg
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“When my mother dies, I will lead her like a dog into the space between our walls which is just like the space between here and always, the king and the kingdom. I will lead her by the hand if she be blind and I will wag my tail against her knees if she be afraid. And I will leave her at the gate. Life on earth will in some ways be easier. I will not have to return her phone calls. I will not have to feel guilty when I want to hear no more, no more about the divorce. I won't cry though I will want to cry, though I will hate myself for not crying. When my mother dies if I am still alive, I will slouch on my knees as though in prayer. I will write one or two poems. Then I will no longer think of her.”

DeathMotherReligionHeavenGrief
Author:Neil Hilborn
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“When my mother fell ill, my father felt it as a great burden. He paid a woman to look after her until the end, and sent me away to live with my aunt and grandmother, and I never heard from him again. He may be dead, for all I know." "I'm sorry," Leo said. And he was. Genuinely sorry, wishing he could somehow have gone back in time to comfort a small girl in spectacles, who had been abandoned by the man who should have protected her. "Not all men are like that," he felt the need to point out. "I know. It would hardly be fair of me to blame the entire male population for my father's sins." Leo became uncomfortably aware that his own behavior hadn't been any better than her father's, that he had indulged in his own bitter grief to the point of abandoning his sisters. "No wonder you've always hated me," he said. "I must remind you of him, I deserted my sisters when they needed me." Catherine gave him a clear-eyed stare, not pitying, not censorious, just... appraising. "No," she said sincerely. "You're not at all like him. You came back to your family. You've worked for them, cared for them. And I've never hated you." Leo stared at her closely, more than a little surprised by the revelation. "You haven't?" "No. In fact-" She broke off abruptly. "In fact?" Leo prompted. "What were you going to say?" "Nothing." "You were. Something along the lines of liking me against your will." "Certainly not." Catherine said primly, but Leo saw the twitch of a smile at her lips. "Irresistibly attracted by my dashing good looks?" he suggested. "My fascinating conversation?" "No, and no." "Seduced by my brooding glances?" He accompanied this with a waggish swerving of his brows that finally reduced her to laughter. "Yes, it must have been those." Settling back against the pillows, Leo regarded her with satisfaction. What a wonderful laugh she had, light and throaty, as if she had been drinking champagne. And what a problem this could become, this madly inappropriate desire for her. She was becoming real to him, dimensional, vulnerable in ways he had never imagined.”

Catherine And LeoLeo HathawayCatherine Marks
Author:Lisa Kleypas
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