The reality of marriage as the union of a mother and a father is grounded in our very biology.
I feel betrayed by own mother.
My career choice was to be a mother.
My mother was a housewife. My father was a garment worker.
My mother, Lillie Specter, was an angel and totally uninterested in politics.
My mother's nickname for me is 'Positive Patrick.' I like to live up to that title.
The only god visible to my eyes is "My Mother
Though a smile is little work, its effects are long lasting.
I torture my mother with all my problems, that poor woman.
My mother was the president of the PTA at every school I attended.
My mother left me for seven years in an orphanage.
You never argued with my mother. You couldn't win.
With over 3 million women battling breast cancer today, everywhere you turn there is a mother, daughter, sister, or friend who has been affected by breast cancer.
In their 30s women really start to live... they're not children anymore, and they're not just mothers.
Black was the without eye Black the within tongue Black was the heart Black the liver, black the lungs Unable to suck in light Black the blood in its loud tunnel Black the bowels packed in furnace Black too the muscles Striving to pull out into the l...
Other priests, he knew, found an intense pleasure in the raw, salty dialect of peasant conversation. They picked up pearls of wisdom and experience over a farmhouse table or a cup of wine in a workingman's kitchen. They talked with equal familiarity ...
A tired starving dog so thin and frail it looks like it could be knocked over by the wind. But it's staring at me. Unafraid. Mouth opened. Tongue lolling. I want to laugh out loud. I glanced around quickly before scooping the dog into my arms. I don'...
He is so beautiful," she thought, aching from the sadness that she saw in his eyes. In the late-afternoon sunlight, those eyes were almost green. She took his face in her hands and pulled him to her, claiming the kiss she had so desperately wanted th...
It was the ultimate cautionary tale, the moral being Don't fall, as if they were made of glass. In a sense they were--their fragility was irrefutable, medically proven--and yet Emily detested the inevitable rundown of accidents and tragedies, the mor...
I’m growing a love seat in my heart. It’s leather and covered in fur, from a mix up with my cat’s back, some glue, my tongue, and my confusion over how to best clean the chair.
He's my father!" she bellowed, pointing to Trevanion. "Vestie!" Beatriss said firmly, stopping to stare up at her. "I'll snip at the tongue if I ever see it in such a way again! Trevanion, speak to her." Vestie hung her head, shamefaced. "Vestie," he...
