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Orphan Quotes

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Orphan Quotes

“I was alone. I had no one. No mother, no father, no brothers, no sisters, no grandmas, no grandpas, no uncles, no aunties, no cousins, and no tribe. I’d seen the children at the orphanage laugh or cry when they received news about a family member. I would never receive such news and no family would laugh or cry for me. That day I understood with sharp clarity that I didn’t have a mother who wanted me.”

InspirationalFamilySelf LoveHeartbreakBraveryIsolationAutobiographyAbandonmentOrphan
Book:Africa's Child
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“I propose a conspiracy of orphans. We exchange winks. We reject hierarchies. All hierarchies. We take the shit of the world for granted and we exchange stories about how we nevertheless get by. We are impertinent. More than half the stars in the universe are orphan-stars belonging to no constellation. And they give off more light than all the constellation stars.”

IndividualitySolidarityOrphanSubversionInstitutionConstellationHierarchies
Book:Confabulations
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“Some people ate less food less often when they each had a home than they now do as hobos.”

HumorFunnyPoorPovertyFoodHumourJokesHumorousHungerHungrySatireAphorismThirstHomelessJokeHilariousStarvingHomelessnessStarvationAphorismsOrphanTransientThirstyEatAphoristAphoristsTrampsOrphansMealVagabondsVagrantsStarveHobosDerelictVagabondDriftersHoboBumBumsTrampPoverty LineVagrantItinerantStreet KidsDerelictsDown And Out DrifterHoboesItinerantsStreet KidTransients
Author:Mokokoma Mokhonoana
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“The light, bold, fluttering little figure turned and came back safe to me, and I soon laughed at my fears, and at the cry I had uttered; fruitlessly in any case, for there was no one near. But there have been times since, in my manhood, many times there have been, when I have thought, is it possible, among the possibilities of hidden things, that in the sudden rashness of the child and her wild look so far off, there was any merciful attraction of her into danger, any tempting her towards him permitted on the part of her dead father, that her life might have a chance of ending that day. There has been a time since when I have wondered whether, if the life before her could have been revealed to me at a glance, and so revealed as that a child could fully comprehend it, and if her preservation could have depended on a motion of my hand, I ought to have held it up to save her. There has been a time since – I do not say it lasted long, but it has been – when I have asked myself the question, would it have been better for little Emily to have had the waters close above her head that morning in my sight; and when I have answered Yes, it would have been.”

LoveLifeSchoolFearWorryShameComing Of AgeHistorical FictionOrphanFamily Saga
Book:David Copperfield
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“At a certain time, the father of this prince had served at the imperial court in Beijing, where his talents had won for him the favour of the Qianlong Emperor as well as the envy of his peers. His reward was a vast fortune that ostracized him from society, and later, when his only son was yet in his infancy, he quit this world entirely. A short while thereafter, the boy's mother followed in the footsteps of the father, and so the Prince, having been left an orphan, found himself quite naturally the sole heir to this veritable mountain of gold, silver and precious stones.”

WealthSuicideBurdenIsolationOrphan
Author:Jun'ichirō Tanizaki
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“Turn it beautiful. His words came faintly at first, but they came again and again, always softly, always with the insistence of an elder commanding wisdom. Turn it all to beauty. She walked to the rail. When she turned and sat upon it, she heard a sailor in the crowd murmur that she might play them a tune. She hoped he was right. She needed the voices to be wrong. Fin raised the instrument to the cleft of her neck and closed her eyes. She emptied her mind and let herself be carried back to her earliest memory, the first pain she ever knew: the knowledge that her parents didn’t want her. The despair of rejection coursed through her. It fathered a knot of questions that bound her, enveloped her. Waves of uncertainty and frailty shook her to the bones. Her body quivered with anger and hopelessness. She reeled on the edge of a precipice. She wanted to scream or to throw her fists but she held it inside; she struggled to control it. She fought to subjugate her pain, but it grew. It welled up; it filled her mind. When she could hold it no more, exhausted by defiance and wearied by years of pretending not to care, Bartimaeus’s words surrounded her. Got to turn it beautiful. She dropped her defenses. She let weakness fill her. She accepted it. And the abyss yawned. She tottered over the edge and fell. The forces at war within her raced down her arms and set something extraordinary in motion; they became melody and harmony: rapturous, golden. Her fingers coaxed the long-silent fiddle to life. They danced across the strings without hesitation, molding beauty out of the miraculous combination of wood, vibration, and emotion. The music was so bright she felt she could see it. The poisonous voices were outsung. Notes raged out of her in a torrent. She had such music within her that her bones ached with it, the air around her trembled with it, her veins bled it. The men around fell still and silent. Some slipped to the deck and sat enraptured like children before a travelling bard.”

PainSufferingBeautyMusicDespairDepressionRedemptionAbandonmentOrphanFiddle
Book:Fiddler's Green
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“Edward reached out with his arms and embraced her, his heart filled with a mix of sadness and hope. He desperately wanted to believe her promise and hold on to her vow that they would be reunited soon. Still, young Edward’s life had been so full of disappointment that it was hard for him to believe his unfortunate circumstances might soon be ending. He clung to her, wishing she would never let him go.”

TruthMysteryStrengthDeterminationCrueltyHistorical FictionTrappedOrphanChild LabourHeart Over Head
Book:One More Life to Live
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“I thought back to Meg’s advice about Hemingway sentences—simple declarative statements that showed the truth and distilled the meaning. My first attempt at that had been cynical and messed up. I gave it a go again. Find one lost sheep. The angels rejoice.”

LoveReligionFaithCollegeHigh SchoolDatingYaYoung Adult FictionCynicismTeen FictionAngelsOrphanLong Distance RelationshipOrphanageWyomingNicaraguaGlass GirlLaura Anderson KurkHemingwayPerfect GlassTeen Literature
Book:Perfect Glass
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“I really want to believe that when our Quiet Waters kids wake up in the middle of the night, scared, they’ll remember being in their bunks with John and Kate and Whit and me right there protecting them,” he said. “I hope we gave them that sense of belonging because I know there’ll be times in their lives when grasping at those bonds could mean the difference between making it and not.”

LoveChildrenRomanceReligionFaithFearAnxietyDatingYaProtectionYoung Adult FictionTeen FictionAdoptionOrphanOrphanageWyomingNicaraguaGlass GirlLaura Anderson KurkMeg KavanaghHenry WhitmirePerfect GlassTeen Literature
Book:Perfect Glass
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“Maybe this is necessary. Maybe there will be hope when Bush's bombs stop falling. But she cannot bring herself to say it, not when what happened to Babi and Mammy is happening to someone now in Afghanistan, not when some unsuspecting girl or boy back home has just been orphaned by a rocket as she was. Laila cannot bring herself to say it. It's hard to rejoice. It seems hypocritical, perverse.”

WarEmpathyHypocrisyAfghanistanBombingOrphanAfghanistan War
Book:A Thousand Splendid Suns
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“I slept. And then I awoke, late that same afternoon, I awoke full in the knowledge that I was alone. I have now seen a great many children in the same place I found myself in that day, orphans, feeling themselves abandoned and left open before all the elements of the world, and I have seen how some explode in tantrum while others walk in an almost stupor, how some cry for days and others move with an uncanny focus, addressing only the moment before them. Some part of them has died, and like surgeons, they know that amputation must be immediate.”

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Author:Ta-Nahisi Coates
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“For my sake,” he said firmly, addressing the air in front of him as though it were a tribunal, “I dinna want ye to bear another child. I wouldna risk your loss, Sassenach,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “Not for a dozen bairns. I’ve daughters and sons, nieces and nephews, grandchildren—weans enough.” He looked at me directly then, and spoke softly. “But I’ve no life but you, Claire.” He swallowed audibly, and went on, eyes fixed on mine. “I did think, though . . . if ye do want another child . . . perhaps I could still give ye one.”

LoveChildrenPregnancySoulmatesAdoptionBabiesOrphanJamie FraserClaire Fraser
Book:The Fiery Cross
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“Your name, please?" A young beauty with smooth, flowing dark hair and the darkest, widest eyes Amestris had ever seen stood before the king's eunuch. "Esther, my lord. Daughter of Abihail. Adopted by Mordecai, son of Jair." The girl's voice carried a cultured lilt. She must come from wealth or privilege. Whatever was she doing caught up in this... mess? "Mordecai. He sits at the king's gate." "Yes, my lord. He is my adoptive father, as both my parents are dead." Esther spoke matter-of-factly, as though the news was not recent. Perhaps she was not so privileged after all. Just fortunate to be beautiful. A shame.”

AdoptedOrphanNatural BeautyEstherMordecaiFortunate Enough
Book:Star of Persia:
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“Destiny is not always preordained. Life is about making choices. Our lives are the sum of all the choices we make, the bridges we cross, and the ones we burn. Our souls cast long shadows over many people, even after we are gone. Fate, luck, and providence are the consequence of our freedom of choice, not the determinants. When justice is served by following our principles, making good decisions brings us inner peace.”

MemoirAdoptionOrphanSocial WorkerAdoptBirth MotherAdopteesAdoption SearchAdoptive ParentsFoster ChildAdoption ReunionsSelective MutismParental AlienationBirth FatherAdopted Child SyndromeAdoption DetectiveAdoption StoriesGenealogical Bewilderment
Book:Adoption Detective: Memoir of an Adopted Child
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“So, do you remember anything about your par-.” Riley started but Abby cut her off. “I thought you said you were going to stop asking about my parents.” declared Abby “I was then asked a new question...” Abby stopped, and Riley was about ten feet from her when she knotted Abby stopped Riley spun towed her. “You good?” asked Riley. “Just... listen, I was five when they died, and I don’t remember them very much." replied Abby. Riley opened her mouth to say something but closed it just as fast, Abby chuckled. “Funny thing is, I do not even remember their names, where they lived, my birthday, if I have any family members still alive...or how my parents died. Ok, there, that is all I know, now stop asking, do not forget I have a gun and a knife still on me so do not make me mad.” Abby said.”

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Author:Abigail Bostic
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“After every battle, he ritually dips his hood into the blood of his enemies. I’ve seen the hood, kept under glass in the armory. The fabric is stiff and stained a brown so deep it’s almost black, except for a few smears of green. Sometimes I go down and stare at it, trying to see my parents in the tide lines of dried blood. I want to feel something, something besides a vague queasiness. I want to feel more, but every time I look at it, I feel less.”

FantasyYoung AdultHolly BlackOrphanFaeriesFair FolkTcp
Book:The Cruel Prince
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“...and when the Assembly arrived at Dusk I hasten'd into the Streets and made my self a child of Hazard. There was a Band of little Vagabonds who met by moon-light in the Moorfields, and for a time I wandred with them; most of them had been left as Orphans in the Plague and, out of the sight of Constable or Watch, would call out to Passers-by Lord Bless you give us a Penny or Bestow a half penny on us: I still hear their Voices in my Head when I walk abroad in a Croud, and some times I am seiz'd with Trembling to think I may be still one of them.”

LondonOrphanBeggarsUrchins
Book:Hawksmoor
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“Shannon took her hand and squeezed it tightly. "We're here for you, Tianna. We're family now, just like Mary said." "You were an emergency placement-" Mary began. "Placement?" Tianna asked. "I'm a foster mother," Mary explained. "I have no home?" Tianna felt her heart drop, but it wasn't as much of a shock as it should have been. Part of her had known she had been running for a long time. Still, she had hoped. "I'm sorry," Mary answered with true concern. "They called two weeks ago and asked if I could take..." She stopped. "What?" Tianna asked, wondering if there was something wrong with her. Mary regarded her kindly. "The social worker wanted to know if there was any way I could handle a problem teen." Tianna waited for Mary to explain. "She said you kept running away from your placement homes and she thought maybe I could make a difference because I had been so successful with others in the past. Tianna knew immediately that there was something Mary wasn't saying.”

OrphanRunawayUnexplainableTianna MooreFoster Family
Book:The Lost One
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