My mother didn’t want me to be a feminist, a radical, political person, because she was scared. She wanted me to be protected and safe, but my life never was.

When I met my designs in the market of a remote village in the West Indies, or in the airport restaurant in Zurich, I felt like the mother of many well-behaved children.

I was twenty-two, the same age she was when she’d been pregnant with me. She was going to leave my life at the same moment that I came into hers, I thought. For some reason...

Gone was the reflexive need to see the worst in things. Before the tumors took her life, they gave her a few moments of grace.

Being a single mother was the right thing for me. But I have a tremendous amount of help from my friends. They’re in love with my kids, and my kids are in love with them.

Curioso como a mãe do Gil, sem saber ler nem escrever, compreendera que Gil tinha de pintar, absolutamente de pintar, nem que para isso ela tivesse de se sacrificar, de se estafar, de morrer. Intuição...

I want to go back to the tell-me-again times when I slept in her bed and we were everything together. When I was everything to her. Everything she needed.

A godly mother loves God with all her heart, soul, mind, and strength, and teaches her children to do the same.

One baby is a patient baby, and waits indefinitely until its mother is ready to feed it. The other baby is an impatient baby and cries lustily, screams and kicks and makes everybody unpleasant until...

My father passed away after three years of debilitating disease, which transformed a very strong and bright man into a real wreck. And that is hard. You have to get out of that stronger, if...

To hear my mother say, ‘Michael is dead,’ to feel and hear the tone in her voice to say her child is dead, is nothing that anyone can ever imagine.

My mother turned into a professional widow. She couldn’t understand why I wanted to be an engineer; she thought I should be a chicken farmer.

We smile but I want more. I want her to hug me.

I’m glad to say my father never felt ashamed of me, but my mother probably did.

There she stood, hiding; the mother without child, the voiceless woman full of anger. Her smoked nails hammered her evaporated heart snivelling in the grotty kitchen of disaster. Her face, depleted, cauterised. Her eyes wheezed...

I had a very difficult relationship with my mother. She used to wake me up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t sleeping straight and was messing up the sheets. Now when I...

German is a much more precise language than English. Americans throw the word love around for everything: I love my wife! I love all my friends! I love rock music! I love the rain! I...

I have a feeling that I make a very good friend, and I’m a good mother, and a good sister, and a good citizen. I am involved in life itself – all of it. And...

Given the reality of unintended parenthood and parental unhappiness, one would think that women and men who make the decision not to have children – who are deliberate and thoughtful about the choice to bring...

Hasn’t there always been a moon?””Bless you. Not in the slightest. I remember the day the moon came. We looked up in the sky–it was all dirty brown and sooty gray here then, not green...

When I was a kid, my daily routine was playing make-believe, and I kind of created these stories throughout the day. And when it came time to go to preschool, my English wasn’t really so...

No man can protect you like your father, No women can love you like your mother.

What’s your heart telling you to do?I don’t know.’Maybe, you’re trying too hard to hear it.

I was born in a middle class Muslim family, in a small town called Myonenningh in a northern part of Bangladesh in 1962. My father is a qualified physician; my mother is a housewife. I...

I’m a first generation American. My mother is Italian and Russian and a lot of other things, and my father is Uruguayan. In fact, my mother’s been married twice, and both men were Uruguayan. So...

One thing that became clear to me is that images of a divine mother are surprisingly important in the psychological wholeness of women, especially in the process of women taking up residence in their own...

A woman’s endurance enabled your first breath.

I heard in my own voice the tulmult of a young man playig a role, uneasily, repackaging black R&B music from America, relying on gimmicky outfits, and pretending to be wild & free when in...

My parents were both from extremely different backgrounds. My father’s Italian, my mother was of Swedish descent. They’re both first-generation Americans.

At eight, he had once told his mother that he wanted to paint air.

Winning that first game was so important; my mother always said that the first game of the second set was the chance to keep it going if you were ahead or change things if you...

Wendy?

I’ve spoken of the patient Peter who was obsessively forced to make conquests with women, to seduce and then to abandon them, until he was at last able to experience how he himself had repeatedly...

My mother taught me how to love. My mom is the most loving person I know.

People think that I popped out of my mother’s womb singing ‘Chasing Pavements’.

At the beginning of my career as a writer, I felt I knew nothing of Chinese culture. I was writing about emotional confusion with my mother related to our different beliefs. Hers was based in...

I don’t know how long we stand there holding each other. It could be ten minutes, an hour, or a day. All I know is that when I finally let go, I can breathe. I...

Not crazy in a ‘let’s paint the kitchen bright red!’ sort of way. But crazy in a ‘gas oven, toothpaste sandwich, I am God’ sort of way. Gone were the days when she would stand...

Elizabeth Mattis-Namgyel, when asked how to strike a better balance between family, work and self-realisation says: “You need the intention, good scheduling, and you have to be creative. If you don’t find time to practice,...

My mother used to play nothing but Billie Holiday.

I don’t know if there’s any change more significant that a human being can make than that of a woman becoming a mother. There’s no change more dramatic.

I’m always like, ‘I can’t believe I sound like my mother.’ I remember running out of the house telling, ‘Put your shoes on or you’re going to get sick!’ That’s an old wives’ tale, but...

A woman is a mother, daughter, and sister of every man; how she could be wrong?

Girls are pearls, ladies are rubies, mothers are moulders, and women are wonderful.

Brain scans show synchrony between the brains of mother and child; but what they can’t show is the internal bond that belongs to neither alone, a fusion in which the self feels so permeable it...

When I was six years old, my mother died; and then, for the first time, I learned, by the talk around me, that I was a slave.

September 11, on a global scale, and my mother dying, on a personal level, were the two major things that got me thinking about all of this.

She is lovable, She is adorable, She is sweet but when she is angry on us still she care for us. She is always with you in your good and bad times . She is...

I don’t know anyone who curses the way they do on the Sopranos. Not in an Italian household. I never said the word hell in front of my mother.

I probably spend more time with my kids than the average stay-at-home mother.