“In an old song the Mother sings: 'My sleeping is my dreaming, my dreaming is my thinking, my thinking is my wisdom.' She is the bed we are born in, in which we sleep and dream, where we are healed, love and die. In her wisdom we remember day's broken images and carry them down into dreams where their motions roll into shadows and root, growing into stories.” ThinkingStoriesDreamRememberMotherSongDiesBornSleepGrowingBrokenBedShadowRootsHealedOld SongSleep And DreamBroken Images Author:Meinrad Craighead
“My first injury ever was a broken toe, and my mother made me run laps around the mat for the rest of the night. She said she wanted me to know that even if I was hurt, I was still fine.” IfsKnowsFirstsMadeSaidStillsRunningWantedMotherNightHurtBrokenFineInjuryToesLapI Was Hurt Author:Ronda Rousey
“War I abhor, and yet how sweet The sound along the marching street Of drum and fife, and I forget Wet eyes of widows, and forget Broken old mothers, and the whole Dark butchery without a soul.” WarSoulWholeEyeMotherSoundDarkForgetStreetsSweetBrokenWetWidowsButcheryWet Eyes Author:Seneca the Younger
“Ah! on Thanksgiving day, when from East and from West, From North and South, come the pilgrim and guest, When the gray-haired New Englander sees round his board The old broken links of affection restored, When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more, And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before. What moistens the lips and what brightens the eye? What calls back the past, like the rich pumpkin pie?” MenEyeCarePastMotherGirlRichBrokenWestSouthRoundsLipsAffectionEastBoardsLinksGrayGuestsWornPiePilgrimPumpkinThanksgiving DayNorth And SouthPumpkin Pie Author:John Greenleaf Whittier
“This human need for mysticism – surrender to an unknown truth, union – stands at the helm of all romantic feeling. It is, in essence, the same intimacy known in a mother’s arms; in those who are deprived of the experience, the need freezes and, distorted, it can rent a life. All addiction has as its foundation skewed yearning for the same transcendence. For me, the spell of the material was broken by my brother’s death; after his suicide, all I wanted was the renewal of my connection to the intangible.” NeedsHumansFeelingsWantedMotherKnownBrotherMaterialsBrokenArmsConnectionsEssenceFoundationSuicideUnionsAddictionSurrenderIntimacyMy BrotherMysticismSpellsYearningRenewalDeprivedTranscendenceFreezeIntangibleHuman NeedsHelmRomantic Feelings Author:Antonella Gambotto-Burke
“We are all so broken. Pick up a person, shake them around and you'll hear the rattling of their broken pieces. Pieces our fathers broke, or our mothers, or our friends, strangers, or our loves.” PersonsMotherFatherPiecesBrokenPicksStrangerBrokeShakesOur LoveOur FatherBroken Pieces Author:Tarryn Fisher
“Always the idea of unbroken quiet broods around the grave. It is a port where the storms of life never beat, and the forms that have been tossed on its chafing waves lie quiet forevermore. There the child nestles as peacefully as ever it lay in its mother's arms, and the workman's hands lie still by his side, and the thinker's brain is pillowed in silent mystery, and the poor girl's broken heart is steeped in a balm that extracts its secret woe, and is in the keeping of a charity that covers all blame.” HeartChildrenHas BeensStillsIdeasHandsFormLyingMotherGirlSidesPoorSecretBrainMysteryBrokenArmsQuietBeatsBlameLaysSilentCharityWaveStormGravesThinkerWoePortUnbrokenWorkmenStorms Of LifeChafing Author:Edwin Hubbel Chapin
“Where I lived - winter and hard earth.I sat in my cold stone roomchoosing tough words, granite, flint,to break the ice. My broken heart -I tried that, but it skimmed,flat, over the frozen lake.She came from a long, long way,but I saw her at last, walking,my daughter, my girl, across the fields,In bare feet, bringing all spring's flowersto her mother's house. I swearthe air softened and warmed as she moved,the blue sky smiling, none too soon,with the small shy mouth of a new moon.” WayHeartLongHardEarthLastsMotherGirlHouseBreakSawsAirFeetSkyFieldsBrokenColdWalkingMoonSpringMouthsDaughterToughStonesBlueMovedWinterIceSatLakesShyFlatsMy DaughterFrozenLong WayBlue SkyMy GirlNew MoonGraniteBare FeetFrozen Lake Author:Carol Ann Duffy
“My mothers dad dropped out of the eighth grade to work. He had to. By the time he was 30, he was a master electrician, plumber, carpenter, mason, mechanic. That guy was, to me, a magician. Anything that was broken, he could fix. Anybody anywhere in our community knew that if there was a problem, Carl was there to fix it.” IfsProblemMotherGuyCommunityMastersBrokenDadGradesMechanicMagicianThat GuyOur CommunityCarpenterMasonsPlumberEighth GradeElectricianDirty Jobs Author:Mike Rowe