The cycle of parental disapproval begins at dawn. That’s why I have to get up five minutes before sunrise, so I can berate my grandpa like he was my own child.
Love is two smiles shared between two people. Or two smiles and a smirk, shared between one couple and a jerk. Or maybe three smiles and a frown, shared between two parents, their child, and a clown.
I’m an only child, so logically I gave birth to my parents, because if it weren’t for me they wouldn’t be parents at all, they’d simply be a married couple. (Or maybe without me they wouldn’t even have been married!)
We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delinaments, weight and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all. I know, he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.
When fear and cold make a statue of you in your bed, don’t expect hard-boned and fleshless truth to come running to your aid. What you need are the plump comforts of a story. The soothing, rocking safety of a lie.
People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation...
Heimat. The word mean home in German, the place where one was born. But the term also conveys a subtler nuance, a certain tenderness. One's Heimat is not merely a matter of geography; it is where one's heart lies.
His house to me was a child was a heart of happiness. If there is a wonder childhood possesses which makes it forever superior to what shall come after, it is the happy and uncritical love of whatever is happy, place or person, it does not matter whi...
I am a divorced child, of divided, uncertain background. Within this division I - supposed fruit of their love - no longer exist. It happened nearly forty years ago, yet to me nothing is sadder than my parents' divorce.
Mary thus learns that the Most High has ever borne a Son in his bosom, and that this Son has now chosen her bosom as dwelling-place.
He tried not to hug her too hard, even though she was kind of hugging him too hard. In fact, she was pretty much crushing his rib cage. He didn't mind, though.
I can't believe you didn't say you were Simon Lewis," she said. "I thought you were just a mundane." Simon leaned slightly away. "I am just a mundane.
This is a touch game. There are times when you've got to play hurt when you've got to block out the pain.
Unconditional love is what a child should expect from a parent even though it rarely works out that way.
Ragnor and Catarina both begged him to give the instrument up. Random strangers on the street begged him to give the instrument up. Even cats ran away from him.
Now I know. If God himself stood before me and said, "Give me that child, that I might slaughter him," I would tell him, "BITE ME!
Shut up, Arthur,' said my mother, and he zipped his mouth shut like an infuriating child. Ginger started to laugh. Not at anything in particular, but just because Ginger was stoned.
Chana knows, I wondered sometimes how I raised that child without strangling her. By age six, [Jasnah] was pointing out my logical fallacies as I tried to get her to go to bed on time.
He must feel that you choose to be with him, not that you need to be with him.
The more independent you are of him, the more interested he will be.
Anytime a woman competes with another woman she demeans herself.
