"You were my home, Mother. I had no home but you"

Mother, Motherhood, Home, Love, Attachment

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"You were my home, Mother. I had no home but you"

Exlpore more Mother quotes

"My father and mother - I figured if I could make them laugh, they'd stop fighting. I stole all their material."

Jerry Stiller, American Comedian

Mother, Father, Fighting

"A mother's love is more beautiful than any fresh flower."

Debasish Mridha, American Author

Mother, Love, Beauty

"Habits are the daughters of action, but then they nurse their mother, and produce daughters after her image, but far more beautiful and prosperous."

Jeremy Taylor, British Clergyman

Mother, Action, Daughters, Habits

"I was so sad from losing two of my dogs and my mother. I had this vision of all these animals sitting behind bars. They had no control and were scared. That's why I got into fostering and adopting animals out."

Linda Blair, American Actress

Mother, Control, Vision, Animals

"People who lost their mother should be careful about committing crime, because probably no one else is praying to save you."

Amit Kalantri, Indian Author

Mother, Loss, Prayer, Crime

"Just before my final year of high school, my brother, sister and I moved with my mother to San Francisco."

Eric Allin Cornell, American Physicist

Mother, Sister, Brother, School

"There are things that you cannot talk to your mother and father about, there are things that you cannot talk to your children about."

Shirley Knight, American Actress

Mother, Father, Children, Talk

"When I was four years old, my mother owned some tenements in the Bronx."

Cy Coleman, American Composer

Mother, Old, Years

"A mother is the most important blessing of your life."

Debasish Mridha, American Author

Mother, Blessing, Love

"My mother would put me on a wooden box at the stove and tell me to call her if certain things would happen. Like if the steam turns blue, that is danger!"

Paul Prudhomme, American Celebrity

Mother,

Explore more quotes by Janet Fitch

"And if there is no god?You act as if there is, and it's the same thing."

Faith

"I hadn't understood at the time. If sinners were so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why.Without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my pastwas my life."

Identity

"Who am I? I am who I say I am and tomorrow someone else entirely. You are too nostalgic, you want memory to secure you, console you. The past is a bore. What matters is only oneself and what one creates from what one has learned. Imagination uses what it needs and discards the rest - where you want to erect a museum. Don't hoard the past, Astrid. Don't cherish anything. Burn it. The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge."

Transformation

"The question of good and the nature of evil will always be one of philosophy's most intriguing problems, up there with the problem of existence itself. If evil means to be self - motivated, to be the center of one's own universe, to live on one's own terms, then every artist, thinker, every original mind, is evil. Because we dare to look through our own eyes rather than mouth clichés lent us from the so - called Fathers. To dare to see is to steal fire from the Gods. This is mankind's destiny, the engine which fuels us as a race."

Wisdom

"The cake had a trick candle that wouldn't go out, so I didn't get my wish. Which was just that it would always be like this, that my life could be a party just for me."

Happiness

"Let me tell you a few things about regret, my darling. There is no end to it. You cannot find the beginning of the chain that brought us from there to here. Should you regret the whole chain, and the air in between, or each link separately?"

Regret

"For what is writing besides capturing thoughts that belong to all of us, so that we can recognize ourselves, undestand ourselves, and perhaps, each other. Every thoughtful book about love makes us better lovers, I think. It opens the gates of perception."

Gratitude

"A cliche is everything you've ever heard of."

Language

"They dream of men with gentle hands, eloquent with tenderness, fingers that brushed along a cheek, that outlined open lips in the lovers' braille. Hands that sculpted sweetness from sullen flesh, that traced breast and ignited hips, opening, kneading. Flesh becomes bread in the heat of those hands, braided and rising."

Love

"In a perverse way, I was glad for the stitches, glad it would show, that there would be scars. What was the point in just being hurt on the inside? It should bloody well show."

Resilience