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Fathers And Sons Quotes

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Fathers And Sons Quotes

“As the pavement expanded, his innocence was slowly buried under asphalt, swallowed as all childhoods eventually are. But the earth protested, bending and warping the pavement with roots and blades of grass that pushed up through the cracks, and he learned that wildness was not something that can ever be tamed.”

“Our era has produced many great men--- robber barons, masters of innovation, beast of business---whose staggering wealth, incomparable ruthlessness and personal legends would seem to prove they are dominant species but then one has a look at their son, and doubts the theory of evolution entirely. -DR. Bertrand Legmam Cooper, Problems of Science and Society, Posted by One Who Has Known Both, 1900”

“Maybe what a son evoked in a father was different than what a daughter evoked? It would be all right. She was only afraid that when time passed, it would not be these trips to the library he would remember, or his eagerness to learn how she made roti in the kitchen with him as her helper, but how upset he would become when Rafiq scolded him.”

“She was beginning to think that perhaps he isn’t the strong man she thought he was. He was just a boy. His father had placed the whole world at his feet and he had daddy issues? If only she would start telling him about her own father. The beatings, the neglect, the lack of support, the lack of love. What is his excuse? Daddy didn’t hug you enough? She was growing impatient and just wanted to get out and cry on her own.”

“The Musket's Progeny by Stewart Stafford The musket's progeny, gunpowder's rise, Heirloom ingot cast in festering dirt, No scaldy-faced defecator's lies, Can tarnish gold's immutable worth. Besmirched, perpetual gleam to my eyes, Ne'er base, but plundered from thy berth, Another's private treasure, I cannot despise, Until thy loan fadeth i' th' afterbirth. With cloistered secrets to impart, Our correspondence doth expand, Let it encompass thy tiny heart, For when it groweth to understand. When from distant quays, emotion sails, My words guide thee in storms and gales. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”

“-أنظر يا أبي، هذا سور الحديقة الذي بنيته بيديك = صحيح، سآخذه معي -لا يمكنك أخذ السور معك! =هذا أمر في منتهى السهولة -هذا مستحيل يا أبي =سترى -أبي، أبي بالله عليك! هذا مستحيل! ربما من الأفضل أن تخبرني كيف ستذهب إلى البيت، وأنت فيه بالفعل. =لا أفهم قصدك -أنت في البيت وتريد الذهاب إليه، ولا يمكن أن نكون في البيت ونذهب إليه! =هذا أمر واضح -إذن ماذا تقصد؟ =لا يعنيني ما تقوله كثيرا بالقدر الذي يعنيك.”

“To believe that it is fair to punish an entire race or gender for the actions of a few individuals from that race or gender, who benefited a small group connected to the corrupt and guilty members of that race or gender, one must be ready to accept this reasoning when it affects them personally. We are after all Africans who believe in the spirit of Ubuntu, reciprocity, universally interpreted as the golden rule. If you believe in penalizing every white person for the actions of a few white politicians and their associates who have benefited from those actions, then it is only fair for you, as a black person, to also accept responsibility for all the corruption within the ANC, given that the ANC supposedly represents the black majority. Whether you benefited is immaterial, as is the case for government-sanctioned affirmative action policies. We know it was a minority of white people who supported apartheid because the 1992 referendum to end apartheid was supported by 68,73 percent of the white population that voted.”

“Because I never wanted you to know!' Alastair burst out. 'Because I wanted you to have a childhood, a thing I never had. I wanted you to be able to love and respect your father as I never could. Every time he made a mess, who do you think had to clean it up? Who told you Father was ill or sleeping when he was drunk? Who went out and fetched him when he passed out in a gin palace and smuggled him in through the back door? Who learned at ten years old to refill the brandy bottles with water each morning so no one would notice the levels had sunk—?' He broke off, breathing hard.”

“See Me In One by Stewart Stafford Crave not aged flight, Your titian crown ringed, With cherubim cheeks, In child's play, winged. I shed this life's skin, My texts echoing guide, Find flesh through them, Righteous wordage sighed. In forest dark, I found you, All before, a stillborn nought, Of everything in ardour rendered, Your form, pride's ransom bought. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”

“Fathers of the fatherless sons and daughters, you all need to get on the full-time ship of love, support, and financial help. Your parental alienation is emotional child abuse. As you violate fatherhood, your children build up walls and it is not so easy for them to forgive. If it’s not too late, you need to make it right." - Charlena E. Jackson, Author of Dear Fathers of the Fatherless Children”

“I spent half my childhood trying to be like my dad. True for most boys, I think. It turns with adolescence. The last thing I wanted was to be like my dad. It took becoming a man to realize how lucky I’d been. It took a few hard knocks in life to make me realize the only thing my dad had ever wanted or worked for was to give me a chance at being better than him.”

“...the land is moody, waiting. Den turns around and looks at his father who leans into the bike, leans into a long drag on his cigarette, leans into a thought not ready for words. The man is so familiar. They should be at home by now. They should be sitting at the dinner table. This familiarity is deeper than the desert, longer than the miles they’ve traveled. It confuses Dennis. What is the source of this sadness? It’s time to go home. Den holds the camera steady.”

“Alright I'll admit not all Americans are fucking stupid. I have respect for Carl Rogers, for example. Dude puts a lot of stock in Experience. Personal experience. And what has my experience been? Well. Russia was nice. I had two bicycles and girls liked me. What's not to like? Then they drag me here (Michigan). Make me work my ass off because parents are idiots and don't speak English. I don't get any pussy till 22. And now they say I still owe school loans? Honestly, I don't remember much of school. Seems like some kinda scam to me. What is to be concluded from this? Either my father is a piece of shit, or America is a shithole. Maybe both. Experience.”

“Jeff’s’ father, Ethan Fortner, World War Two and Korean War hero, and one of the original agents of ‘Wild Bill’ Donovan’s post-war Central Intelligence Agency, sat in the chair before him. He had a tumbler of single-malt Scotch in his hand, and a Cuban cigar in the other. It was 1958, and his father was chastising him, again. Ethan Fortner was a patriot, and a legend in the intelligence community; but he was also a high functioning alcoholic and a bitter widower, ever since the day of Jeff’s birth.”

“And William says, "I lost one son utterly."... ..."So I've held my tongue. But the truth is you didn't go to war. You went through the motions. But you turned it into graduate school. You contrived a comfortable place on the edge of the action to go study. You didn't even let the army decide your fate. You wangled your safe little job with a pre-enlistment deal and avoided the real thing. You told all the others who manned up, 'Better you do the dirty work, not me. Better your blood than mine.”

“I am a proud father in the fulfillment I feel when I provide guidance to my son. We have tremendous sharing together, which I now share in words with you today, with only a humble choice of adjectives to truly describe the emotions I feel arising from my relationship with my son. I imagine each of us has relationships of which we can be proud.”

“Bereaved, she made it home, thanked the neighbor and headed to bed to sob herself to sleep. Rich’s arrival from work was followed by a rattlesnake response to the two children wandering the house without supervision. Finding Gail in bed, he berated his wife for her selfishness. Gail announced the miscarriage to Rich. “I hope you’re happy.” He shrugged and said, “I’m sorry about that. Comm ci comme sa. You win some, you lose a bunch. I guess I’ll go fix spaghetti for the girls.” She turned over to look him in the eye. “It was a beautiful, perfectly formed little boy,” she said with a tear-streaked face. Rich looked a little stunned at the news. He heard his wife’s voice dull compared to the coursing blood in his ears. “Yes, he looked like you. His curls, his lashes…” Maybe he would have wanted a son, but the wheels of his mind kept turning. “There’s always another night, another baby to be had when he’s out of college, another son to be born when we’re more financially stable.” “If you wouldn’t have tricked me…” “Into this pregnancy,” she finished his thought. “And so, you think you have tricked me back.”

“He was bad with me too, but it was a little more random. If the phone rang and woke him up, he'd hit me, or if he had plans to go out but had to cancel for snow, he'd knock me around to burn off his anger. I was always looking for the secret code, the rules I could follow so he wouldn't freak out. That's how you keep yourself safe, you know? You pay attention to how the world works. But there was no secret code for him. It was like our actions were entirely detached from his reaction to us.”

“All the men in Daddy's records sang of love with drastically imbalanced emotion. In the span of three minutes, they begged for it and kicked it to the curb. They turned to anybody, even to God, with a perpetual request: Please send me someone to love. But once they got it, love scrambled them.”