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Fathers And Sons Quotes

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Fathers And Sons Quotes

“All the preparation for this very moment is behind you. You've practiced and sprinted in hot and humid weather until you thought you were going to barf. You've worked on your touch, your through balls, your shots. You've psyched each other up. You are ready to win this game because you are the best-conditioned and most unselfish team out there. Let's go do what we can do! -Coach”

“The game isn't over until we stop fighting. Like my ten thousand hours chart. Ten thousand touches. Ten thousand tries. Ten thousand spectacular fails until you finally get it. I'm trying so hard to stay positive. Just because I'm failing right now doesn't mean I'll stop. Believe me, if I could, I'd never doubt again. I'd believe every single second and never stop.”

“Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. It's three long words, and I can say it faster than anyone in the family, like a ninja-twister champ. I didn't mean to get so good at it, but it goes through my head over and over like a soccer move I can't shake. It's a super-frustrating disease to fight. One day a muscle moves - the next day? Nope.”

“Only a tiny chip of paint is missing from my most recent hit. But hey, if you value boring, unchipped doorframes and sloppy ball control, by all means, keep the soccer ball outside or sitting neglected in the garage for nine months out of the year. From firsthand experience I know that until you master the ball, it has to roll across kitchen floors, hit walls, windows, cupboards, your little Squirrel sisters - and your snarling older one, too. The ball flies off your knees and hits the telephones, breaks dishes, and busts windowpanes until you can control it from ever hitting anything you don’t want it to again. That’s the price you pay for greatness.”

“Instead of doom and gloom, Dad seems...transformed. He has a smile on his face, eyes closed. Water is pouring out of the shower spigot, down his face, over his eyes, nose, and mouth. Did you actually ride a bike? Mom asks. No, he says. I was FLYING. And no matter how mad Mom is, I'm suddenly triumphant too, that I could make him feel that way. Like we can really do anything together. Even if it takes ten thousand tries.”

“I kneel by my side of the bed to pray, something I've only ever done because Mom and Dad told me to. But today I decide on my own. After all, Messi's a believer too. I've seen him do it a hundred times - pointing at the sky when he scores, like he's acknowledging something or someone up there who holds pieces of his destiny. Destiny. It does seem like destiny flies in the face of ten thousand hours and actually earning a starting position. But even I have to admit - after all the fighting, after all the hard work - there's a piece of me that's looking for a miracle. So I look up and put my hands together....please.”

“Were we destined to have a Dad with ALS or is it all just random? Is this a test? To see how much we love him? This is how I’d answer: Ten thousand tries until we’ve mastered the impossible thing? That’s nothing. Nothing compared to how much I love Dad. We create our own destiny. ALS doesn’t stand a chance against the Maroni dream team.”

“بی قصد گفتم: (( بعضی اوقات از خودم می پرسم، واقعا آزاد بودن چه معنی ای دارد.)) - من فکر می کنم که آزادی نمی تواند جز کمی بی گدار زدن به آب باشد . آزادی تعادلی متزلزل است، کمی خارج از حد و‌ مرز بودن.”

“بیشتر مواقع حساب نمی کنیم کاری که برای بار نخست انجام می دهیم، نقطه ی پایان است و نه نقطه ی آغازش؛ در نیکی، و به ویژه در بدی. اگر اشتباه باشد، راه برگشتی در کار نیست.”

“گاهی مواقع باید حرف زد و هیچ چیزی را نباید ناگفته گذاشت؛ گاهی مواقع درست برعکس، باید سکوت کرد، چون در محیط چیزهای ملموس و گرانبهایی وجود دارند که حرفت می تواند به یک چشم برهم زدن نابودشان کند. دو اصل بسیار ساده اند؛ بخش مشکلش در تصمیم گیری است؛ کدام وقت یکی و کدام وقت آن دیگری را به کار ببری.”

“بعضی مواقع فکر می کنی وجودت اجتناب ناپذیر است، یعنی جهان بدون بودن تو از هم خواهد پاشید و یا اینکه پیش نخواهد رفت. بعد اتفاقی مانند این پیش خواهد آمد که متوجه می شوی:1( اجتناب ناپذیر هستی؛2( که اجتناب ناپذیر بودن چندان هم بد نیست.”

“می دانی، راه های شکوفایی نبوغ بی نهایت اند، تصورات فی البداهه بخش پایه ای اکتشافات علمی اند؛ حتی در کشف های ریاضی. و باید بگویم غیر ممکن است که این تصورات حاصل گنجینه ی پشتکار نباشند؛ نتیجه ی روشنی نخواهد داد.”

“می بایست در جوانی می مردم. نه جسما: به عنوان یک ریاضیدان می بایست می مردم. به محض اینکه حس می کردم توانم به اتمام رسیده، باید کارم را عوض می کردم. هر چقدر ماهر باشی- که من به اندازه ی کافی بودم- زمانی فرا می رسد که حس می کنی در برابر بالاتر از خود در یک حد متوسط قرار داری و بیشتر هم در برابر یک نابغه. آدم باید بتواند آن لحظه توقف کند، یعنی درست روی مرز توانش، ولی هرگز این اتفاق نمی افتد.”

“پدرم تک نوازی کرد. نمی خواهم این جریان را حتی برای خودم هم بازگو کنم، ولی با غرور به چنین پدری افتخار می کردم، دلم می خواست به اطرافیانم بگویم که آن مرد بلندقد،لاغر و آراسته که پشت پیانو نشسته و قیافه اش کمتر از پنجاه سال می زند، پدر من است.”

“...you're not the first I've interrupted by mistake. You've not shocked me, and you've not surprised me either." I look up at him too quickly, and my vision swims. He puts a steadying hand on my shoulder. "If you thought I was ignorant as to the nature of your relationship with Mr. Newton, you may need to reexamine your concept of appropriate of physical fondness between friends." I nod, trying to pretend its fine when really my muscles are clenched, and I'm fighting the urge to run. I don't want to have this conversation. I don't know where it's going, but my instincts tell me to scoot away from it. I can feel my shoulders rise, and perhaps he notices for he lets his his hands fall away, and instead, folds them in his lap. Perhaps its only in my own mind, but it feels like a deliberate gesture, as though he's putting his hands away to show he won't raise them against me. "We aren't that obvious," I say, and when Scipio gives me a pointed look I add," I know plenty of lads who are fond without being unchaste. "But its clear you're not those lads." I'm not sure he hears the way my breath hitches for he quickly adds, "which is fine. Who gives a fig for chastity anyways." He laughs at his own joke, glancing over at me like he hoping I might join in. I wonder suddenly if this is what it's meant to be like with a father and a son and a first real love.”

“Cesar knew better. He did. And love. Love just makes a man weak. A woman, a child—doesn’t matter what face the love has, love makes you stupid, it takes you out of your character, twists you, folds you, it drags you out into deep waters and drowns you. Love has you thinking about all the things you buried. All the things you left behind. It has you thinking about your mother, who was a nurse once, wearing scrubs and coming home late, before all the fighting, before the vodka, before the heroin, before Cesar found her in the bathtub sleeping in her own blood. Love has you crying on the couch while you’re feeding your baby. Not even a month old and you’re leaving him. Not because you want to, but because of love. Because you love him and you know he’s better off with somebody else. Because it’s the right thing to do. But righteousness doesn’t take the edge of the sting. Because it hurts. Because he’s looking up at you. His eyes wide in awe like you’re God herself. Your son cannot understand a word that you’re saying. He doesn’t understand that you’re saying goodbye.”

“We all have someone in our lives that has disappointed us a time or two, someone that no matter what they do you still try to love them through it" I just stare down at our joint hands. "The boys' dad, our son Benjamin he…" she squeezes my hand "he loves the boys in his own way" I look up into her face, but she's looking past me at Ry and Jase. "It was hard to watch those two grow up without either of their parents around for them and we tried to make up for it. To be what they needed, but every time we taught them new things or helped them with their homework or even attended their sporting events; every single time I saw the boys faces fall in disappointment. I felt that I felt disappointed towards my Benjamin." I tighten my grip on her hand, knowing it must not be easy to admit out loud. "We all have a weak spot; their dad was ours. Until he wasn't until he couldn't be anymore.”