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Mothers Quotes

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Mothers Quotes

“Is Lisa going to the prom?" I shelved my worries for the moment. "I don't know, Mom. We don't talk about the You-Know-What. We made a pact." "You could go together, if you didn't want to mess with dates and things." "I don't want to mess with the prom at all, Mom." She ignored me, placidly eating popcorn, piece by piece. "Some girls in my high school class did that and had a wonderful time. They weren't lesbians or anything. Not that it would matter if they were." "That's nice, Mom. I'm glad you're so open-minded." I grabbed my Coke and the popcorn bowl and headed for the stairs, because I could go my whole life without ever hearing my mother talk about lesbians again. "Maybe you could take Justin to the prom," she called after me, laughter in her voice. "He is such a hottie." Shoot me now.”

HumorMothersProm
Book:Prom Dates from Hell
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“The past is a presence between us. In all my mother does and says, the past continually discloses itself in the smallest ways. She sees it directly; I see its shadow. Still, it pulses in my fingertips, feeds on my consciousness. It is a backdrop for each act, each drama of our lives. I have absorbed a sense of what she has suffered, what she has lost, even what her mother endured and handed down. It is my emotional gene map.”

MemoryMemoirMothersHolocaust
Book:Motherland: Beyond the Holocaust: A Mother-Daughter Journey to Reclaim the Past
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“Mothers are like dungeons. Some really stink and you'll do anything to avoid them. And some are lush sanctuaries filled with gold, jewels, and butterscotch schnapps-spiked Nestle Nesquik.”

FantasyMothersDungeonsDungeons And DragonsRoleplaying
Book:Everything I Need to Know I Learned from Dungeons & Dragons - One Woman's Quest to Trade Self-Help for Elf-Help
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“Why would you family think about it?" "Oh, my mother's the only one that counts, and she likes you very much from what she's seen of you." "So you had me inspected?" "No-dash it all, I seem to be saying all the wrong things today. I was absolutely stunned that first day in court, and I rushed off to my mater, who's an absolute dear, and the kind of person who really understands things, and I said, 'Look here! here's the absolutely one and only woman, and she's being put through a simply ghastly awful business and for God's sake come and hold my hand!' You simply don't know how foul it was.”

Mothers
Book:Strong Poison
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“A mother must be vigilant. She must be able and willing to wake up ten times during the night to feed her baby. After her intermittent vigil, she must see everything clearly the next morning so that she can notice any changes in her baby. A mother is not permitted to have blurry vision. She must notice if her baby’s wail is too loud or too low. She must know if the child’s temperature has risen or fallen. A mother must not miss any signs.”

Mothers
Book:Stay with Me
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“His master plan to get them all out the door early met its first check of the day when he opened his closet door to discover that Zap the Cat, having penetrated the security of Vorkosigan House through Miles's quisling cook, had made a nest on the floor among his boots and fallen clothing to have kittens. Six of them. Zap ignored his threats about the dire consequences of attacking an Imperial Auditor, and purred and growled from the dimness in her usual schizophrenic fashion. Miles gathered his nerve and rescued his best boots and House uniform, at a cost of some high Vor blood, and sent them downstairs for a hasty cleaning by the overworked Armsman Pym. The Countess, delighted as ever to find her biological empire increasing, came in thoughtfully bearing a cat-gourmet tray prepared by Ma Kosti that Miles would have had no hesitation in eating for his own breakfast. In the general chaos of the morning, however, he had to go down to the kitchen and scrounge his meal. The Countess sat on the floor and cooed into his closet for a good half-hour, and not only escaped laceration, but managed to pick up, sex, and name the whole batch of little squirming furballs before tearing herself away to hurry and dress.”

MothersKittens
Book:Memory
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“Bertie stared at his mother. She spoils things, he thought. All she ever does is spoil things. He had not started this conversation, and it was not his fault that they were now talking about Grey Owl. He sounded rather a nice man to Bertie. Any why should he not dress up in feathers and live in the forests if that was what he wanted to do? It was typical of his mother to try to spoil Grey Owl's fun.”

FunMothers
Book:Love Over Scotland
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“My earliest memory is of sitting at my mother's feet. She was standing with her shoes on either side of me. I think I must have been a baby. I don't think I could walk yet. She was wearing a long skirt. It was windy and her skirt draped over me, then blew away, then draped over me again. She was standing above me, and above her was the sky. I felt how I might inside a cathedral. Her legs were like stone pillars. Her skirt like an altar veil. I felt guarded by her. I thought of her as the sun.”

SunChildhoodMemoryMothersMoms
Book:Interesting Facts about Space
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“Dear Mother, You used to call me Sparrow. Why Sparrow? Well, because the woods are full of sparrows, and you loved everything outdoors. Songbirds, wildflowers, wind. You could read the weather like a poem. But why did I remind you of a sparrow and not another songbird? I never thought to ask. With their white cheeks and dingy underparts, plain brown sparrows are everywhere. They beg at outdoor tables and hop under city benches. They nest in chimneys and rafters and even tailpipes. Sparrows are not much to look at, but they’re smart. Canny. Tiny, feathered battle-axes. Sparrows are survivors. I like to think that’s what you meant… No woman is a star. No woman is a god or a tree or a magician. But for a while, in your arms, the universe was the right size, and I knew where I was…Mothers have a sixth sense. Their love is occult.”

LoveMothers
Book:Heartwood
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“Of humans, she had stood beside the wombed to try to protect during childbirth. In the form of the Seven Hetherus, human fates were determined as newborns. Later, Hetheru helped the deceased move to the Duat-land of the afterlife. And she greeted them with bread. Seven more cows and their male consort, who some say is Usir,[45] Lord of the Cows, assist the deceased according to the Book of the Dead. The cow called She of Chemmis[46] nurses the deceased with her milk. [47] Thus Hetheru and her brethren aid humans seven times with their births and seven times with their rebirths; and also for the gods. Now Hertheru was silent. She slept. Her great lungs heaved. I kept vigil over her through the night, gently stroking the Mother of mothers like my babe, as she had comforted and nuzzled so many.” [45] a.k.a. Osiris [46] Present-day Akhmim, Egypt [47] Pinch, 178 Page 80”

Animal RightsMothersSanctuaryAnimal WelfareAnimal LiberationAncient EgyptHathor
Book:Lament of Hathor
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“I can hardly wait till he gets old enough to talk," sighed Diana. "I just long to hear him say `mother.' And oh, I'm determined that his first memory of me shall be a nice one. The first memory I have of my mother is of her slapping me for something I had done. I am sure I deserved it, and mother was always a good mother and I love her dearly. But I do wish my first memory of her was nicer." "I have just one memory of my mother and it is the sweetest of all my memories," said Mrs. Allan. "I was five years old, and I had been allowed to go to school one day with my two older sisters. When school came out my sisters went home in different groups, each supposing I was with the other. Instead I had run off with a little girl I had played with at recess. We went to her home, which was near the school, and began making mud pies. We were having a glorious time when my older sister arrived, breathless and angry. "`You naughty girl" she cried, snatching my reluctant hand and dragging me along with her. `Come home this minute. Oh, you're going to catch it! Mother is awful cross. She is going to give you a good whipping.' "I had never been whipped. Dread and terror filled my poor little heart. I have never been so miserable in my life as I was on that walk home. I had not meant to be naughty. Phemy Cameron had asked me to go home with her and I had not known it was wrong to go. And now I was to be whipped for it. When we got home my sister dragged me into the kitchen where mother was sitting by the fire in the twilight. My poor wee legs were trembling so that I could hardly stand. And mother -- mother just took me up in her arms, without one word of rebuke or harshness, kissed me and held me close to her heart. `I was so frightened you were lost, darling,' she said tenderly. I could see the love shining in her eyes as she looked down on me. She never scolded or reproached me for what I had done -- only told me I must never go away again without asking permission. She died very soon afterwards. That is the only memory I have of her. Isn't it a beautiful one?”

Mothers
Book:Anne of the Island: Anne of Green Gables Series Book 3
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“All along, I thought I was protecting the kids. Shielding them from realities behind closed doors. Sacrificing to maintain a two-parent Christian home. Making hard, better choices for their faith, family, and education than I made for myself, trying to safeguard them from pain. But they saw. That was obvious now. And staying meant raising sons who hit women. Staying meant raising a daughter who stayed with the man who hit her. And that would be my fault. I'd be the one who taught them life like this was okay. I didn't just let erratic violence continue happening---I helped by refusing to leave. Good mothers don't let this happen to their kids.”

MothersDaughtersSonsGenerationalReligious AbuseIblp
Book:A Well-Trained Wife: My Escape from Christian Patriarchy
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“...you don't even realise you're trapped. And even when you do realise this, the psychological tentacles which are wrapped around you are very difficult to remove. In addition there can be practical and logistical tentacles too, such as living together in a co-owned house, which just add to the problem.”

MothersMothers And DaughtersDaughtersNarcissisticmothers
Book:You're Not Crazy—It's Your Mother: Understanding and Healing for Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers
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