Never raise your hand to your kids. It leaves your groin unprotected. ~Red Buttons
Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honor or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if Dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later... that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. ~Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities
Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes. ~Gloria Naylor
Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honor or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if Dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
Are we not like two volumes of one book? ~Marceline Desbordes-Valmore
The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age. ~Lucille Ball
Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened. ~Jennifer Yane
Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name. ~William Wordsworth
You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely. ~Ogden Nash
Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes. ~Gloria Naylor
Youth would be an ideal state if it came a little later in life. ~Herbert Asquith
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
No comments:
Post a Comment