In our family, there wasn't anything else besides art. Nothing else in the world existed. My father never spoke about going to a movie or listening to music, other than my mother's singing.
I left school at 16 and my mother got me a job as a trainee wine taster. But one day I followed some girls into St Martin's art school and saw a voluptuous woman sitting on a stool being sketched. I decided to get myself fired.
My mother was an artist, and I was fairly good at art as a child. I was always the best drawer in class, except in second grade when an artistic genius passed through our school!
My mother and stepfather were married 43 years, so I have watched a long marriage. I feel like I had a very good role model for that. And, you know, it's just a number.
He's my father, whoever he is, so he must have had sex with my mother at least once, and I'd love to kill him for that.
Or maybe we'll make a home somewhere inside ourselves, to carry with us wherever we go- which is the way I carry my mother now.
No matter how happy I had been in the past I do not long for it. The present is always the moment for which I love.
I am a man of peace [so he told Mother, but it always appeared to me that he was the most belligerent man of peace I had ever encountered]
A very long time ago, some 2.5 million years B.C., the mother of human species as we know it, our ultimate ancestor, appeared in East Africa... She was four feet tall and probably black..
To be a poet, I realized, a true poet, was to become the Avatar of humanity incarnate; to accept the mantle of poet is to carry the cross of the Son of Man, to suffer the birth pangs of the Soul-Mother of Humanity.
My mother always said 'Don't bother other people.' I think that's good advice.
My mother was teaching me that the inside of something was not necessarily its outside. Always look carefully, she told me. Look with more than your eyes.
His father was an attorney in Paris. He met Sebastien’s mother on a train to Amsterdam. There were no other seats. They were forced together and found they preferred it.
Mothers can forgive anything! Tell me all, and be sure that I will never let you go, though the whole world should turn from you.
Dan clung to her in speechless gratitude, feeling the blessedness of mother love, — that divine gift which comforts, purifies, and strengthens all who seek it.
Southerners have mastered picking, choosing, and rationalizing religious texts to fit their social agenda better than their own mother’s fried chicken recipe.
I wonder if other mothers feel a tug at their insides, watching their children grow up into the people they themselves wanted so badly to be.
My mother used to tell me that when push comes to shove, you always know who to turn to. That being a family isn't a social construct but an instinct.
The Devil can quote scripture, after all. And monsters can say "please" and "thank you" same as any mother's son.
She smells of her cooking and the perfume Eau d'Hadrien. My mother wore it, too. She used to cook, like Lili. Our house smelled of garlic and thyme instead of sadness.
My mother was a good Catholic -- she went to mass twice a week at St. Mary's in Richmond, but my father was an Orthodox Eclectic.
