I am someone who tweets about what I have for breakfast, what I have for lunch, what I have for dinner, and for 99.99999 percent of the world, it's useless. It's meaningless. But for my mother, she loves it.
Males and females are unique and different, because their brains are different. There's not a limitation on girls. My grandmother was very strong, and so was my mother. She also knew what it meant to be a woman and wife and was very successful at it.
I started to write as a child as soon as I could read, or even before, when my mother read me Beatrix Potter at bedtime. Writing seemed to me to be the only sensible way to live and be happy.
I wanted a baby of color, to be honest, because I wasn't attached to the idea that I look like the biological mother. I liked the idea of the adoption being clear; it was and is not something I am interested in hiding.
I remember sitting there on my father's couch or my mother's couch, listening to this lecture about how there were two groups and we had to be separated. We've come a long way from this kind of open racism. And I think it's wonderful.
I try to do everything to say, 'OK, will my mother like this? Will she be pleased? Will she be proud of that? How do I know she's happy and she's smiling down at me from heaven?' And that's what I try to go by and walk by.
Children like their mothers especially to be standing still and watching them, even if they are sleeping. At least that's how I felt. There's nothing wrong with the self-interest of children; it's just the way they are.
Babe Ruth didn't become her father until 18 months after he married her mother, Claire, on April 17, 1929, Opening Day of the baseball season. Julia was 12 years old.
On winter Sundays when I was a child, we waited for my father to return from his tennis game with bagels and sturgeon and for my mother to object when the 1 P.M. Giants game began.
My mother married my father in 1956. She was twenty-eight, and he was thirty-one. She loved him with a fierce steadiness borne of loyalty, determination, and an unyielding dignity.
Middle-class mothers and fathers turned out to be a very well-defined consumer group, easily gulled into buying almost anything that might remedy their parental deficiencies.
Sure, they were simple desk lamps with only a minimal amount of movement, but you could immediately tell that Luxo Jr. was a baby, and that the big one was his mother. In that short little film, computer animation went from a novelty to a serious too...
My goal is to be a household name, and when I do that, I want to help other girls become models, and maybe even launch a fashion line with my mom, like Beyonce did with her mother. My mom has such a good eye, and it's always been a dream of hers.
Charles: Pumpkin, sweetheart... [kisses her and forces her out his study room] Charles: Go help your mother. Lydia: Maybe *you* can relax in a haunted house, but I can't.
I grew up on the south side of Chicago, most of that time on welfare. My mother and sister and I used to live with my grandparents and various cousins. We shared a two-bedroom tenement, and the three of us slept in one of those bedrooms and had a set...
My father came by himself across the North Korean border when he was seventeen. And hasn't seen his brothers or sisters or parents since then. And he died some time ago, but never saw any of his relatives. My mother was a refugee in war-torn Korea.
With fashion, my mother was an icon, but she never lived it in the sense that she was never obsessed with fashion. When I was a young girl, my sister wasn't doing fashion, so I started fashion thinking, 'I'm going to do something that they haven't do...
What does the truth matter? Haven't we mothers all given our sons a taste for lies, lies which from the cradle upwards lull them, reassure them, send them to sleep: lies as soft and warm as a breast!
Vincent: You got ten minutes. 10:01? I drive the cab to the hospital and execute your mother on my way out of town, and don't pretend indifference. Max: I can't do this.
[from trailer] Alfred: You are as precious to me as you were to your own mother and father. I swore to them that I would protect you, and I haven't.
Old man: [about Lee's sister] Now you know the truth. When you get to the city, pay your respects to your sister and your mother. Lee: I will old man.
