Elizabeth Gaskell Quotes

I started writing letters home to my mother, saying that I wanted to come home, grandma won't let me sing.

If Terri was upset about how silly she would look, her mother was completely undone. Seems she wanted Terri in her full natural bloom, not with any blooming flower.

As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be sure; but there's no love lost between us.

My face is muffled in my mother's clothing. Her rhinestones injure me. See: my feet are going. Fish flee the forefinger of my aunt. The sun streams over the geraniums. What has this to do with what I feel, with what I am.

The mere idea of asking a family member if they intentionally stopped sending me an annual bonus makes me feel like breaking out in hives.

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

Her mother was my wife," the Count roared, loudest of all. "You pathetic excuse for am money-grubbing fool, you disgrace to the face of the world." And with a shriek of disgust he turned and was gone. Guilietta was beside Inigo then, so excited. "Daddy likes you," she said.

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.

Go to bed, Cammie,” my aunt ordered, sounding exactly like my mother. “No,” I said, sounding exactly like my aunt.

I appealed to my mother. I told her it wasn't fair the way the whole family was invading my dreams and she said, Arrah, for the love o' God, drink your tea and go to school and stop tormenting us with your dreams.

My mother-in-law broke up my marriage. My wife came home from work one day and found me in bed with her.

It's for personal reasons," I say stiffly, which is what my mother had always told me to say about things that had to do with fighting with your brothers, getting any sort of illness that had intestinal ramifications, starting your period, and money.

I had spent my childhood and the better part of my early adulthood trying to understand my mother. She had been an extraordinarily difficult person, spiteful and full of rage, with a temper that could flare, seemingly out of nowhere, scorching everything and everyone who got in its way. [pp. 40-41]

My Papa's Waltz: The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt.

when the time came I would do battle with my mother for the right to sit at the center of my own life.

My real name is Mica, spelled with a C. My dad is called Michael. He wanted me to be called Michael but my mother said over her dead body. She wasn't into the whole junior thing.

When you bump into your own mom at an orgy, it's hard not to get her to read into certain things.

No, I am never setting foot in this house again it scares me and makes me sad and I wish you could be a mom whose eyes worked but I don't think you can.

Controlling mothers do not pass the baton to their son's new wife.

It's painful, man, for my daughters to say they're scared of me.

My daughter refuses to call me mother in public; my little grandson calls me Spongeslob Squarebottom, and nobody else ever calls me at all.

I had always assumed we had an unspoken understanding about these things: that she didn't really mean I was a failure, and I really meant I would try to respect her opinions more. But listening to Auntie Lin tonight reminds me once agian: My mother and I never really understood one another. We translated each other's meanings and I seemed to hear less than what was said, while my mother heard more. No doubt she told Auntie Lin I was going back to school to get a doctorate.

When a couple decides to divorce, they should inform both sets of parents before having a party and telling all their friends. This is not only courteous but practical. Parents may be very willing to pitch in with comments, criticism, and malicious gossip of their own to help the divorce along.

I often wish my mother had died so that at least I could get some people's sympathy. But there she was, a perfectly beautiful mother.

Freud, Sigmund: A man so dissatisfied with his own mother and father that he devoted his life to convincing everyone who would listen — or better still, talk — that their parents were just as bad.