Ally Carter Quotes

I think my mom threatened to put me up for adoption a few times.

My oldest brother and my middle brother would always beat me up and take the ball from me. I used to cry a lot, so I used to come in here and get my dad. He used to be on my team, so he used to hold them down and let me score the basket.

For me, the toughest thing for kids to deal with is when the parents are fighting. It's not violence on them - it's the feeling of violence in the family.

My parents argued a lot. It was pretty tumultuous at times.

If we're a family and your brother wishes you death, it's not a very happy family.

The first time my mom found condoms in my room, she literally started crying hysterically.

What can we do?" Mom asked again. I shrugged. But she kept asking, as if there were something she could do, until I just kind of crawled across the couch into her lap and my dad came over and held my legs really tight and I wrapped my arms all the way around my mom's middle and they held on to me for hours while the tide rolled in.

My parents, last time we went to Ikea, got into a huge fight, almost got divorced. My dad accidentally put his fist through the wood. I don't know what it was made of. Just going there it's like a maze. My mom makes me go. I get lost. It's very stressful.

Mom sobbed something into Dad's chest that I wish I hadn't heard, and that I hope she never finds out that I did hear. She said, "I won't be a mom anymore." It gutted me pretty badly.

Every day after work, my mom and I go shopping. My dad is about to kill me. I say, We need it, daddy!

My girlfriend is despicable. I just found out she flirted with my brother, during my mom's funeral, while I was asleep.

I watch the Eruptions. Mount Dad, long dormant, now considered armed and dangerous. Mount Saint Mom, oozing lava, spitting flame. Warn the villagers to run into the sea.

It was a conversation that I didn't want to have with my parents to say mom and dad I missed my flight.

During the war, there were people wishing me death, wishing my son death, wishing my wife death in very graphic ways. In the past, I would go overseas and I would say, "Israel is like my family: we disagree, but we're all brothers." I can't say that anymore, because life proves me wrong.

My parents only played Isley Brothers, Marvin Gaye. That's when New Kids came out, and we wanted to jam that. My mom was like, "Put that thing off and put my damn record on". So from old school to '90s to recent, it's just always been there.

Nick glowered at Ash. "Are we through now, Dad? Can I go play with my friends if I promise to be a good boy? I'll even try and make it home by curfew." Ash laughed evilly. "Oh, absolutely, son. In fact, here come your new playmates now.

We just found out my little brother has a peanut allergy, which is very serious I know. But still I feel like my parents are totally overreacting - they caught me eating a tiny little bag of airline peanuts and they kicked me out of his funeral.

I don't feel any ethical dilemma when I write. In my memoir, I was able to write with candor about the two most difficult people in the world to write with candor about - mom and dad. Everything else is downhill from there.

When mom and dad went to war the only prisoners they took were the children

but my dad said it was no excuse. "But I love him!" I had never seen my sister cry that much. "No, you don't." "I hate you!" "No, you don't." My dad can be very calm sometimes. "He's my whole world." "Don't ever say that about anyone again. Not even me." That was my mom.

By the time we get to church, I need church cuz I've been yelled at by everyone in the family.

I am filled with fear and tormented with terrible visions of pain. Everywhere people are hurting one another, the planet is rampant with injustices, whole societies plunder groups of their own people, mothers imprison sons, children perish while brothers war. O, woe.

My dad is funny in his own way, and so is my brother, but in terms of legitimately making a lot of people laugh, that's my mom. I inherit my sense of comedy from her.

Rachel, you take her,” my mother said, clearly uncomfortable. “She might like you.” “No. Mom, no!” I protested, but it was my mother we were talking about, and it was either take the baby or have her hit the floor.

But in the real world, you couldnt really just split a family down the middle, mom on one side, dad the other, with the child equally divided between. It was like when you ripped a piece of paper into two: no matter how you tried, the seams never fit exactly right again. It was what you couldn't see, those tiniest of pieces, that were lost in the severing, and their absence kept everything from being complete.