#daughter

She opened up the glass jar she kept spare buttons in and began sorting through them. It was like handling bits and pieces of the past—buttons from loved ones’ dresses and suits and coats carefully gathered up and saved for future use. She had inherited many of the buttons from her mother and grandmother, even her Great Aunt Maggie. Each woman adding to the collection, like curators of a family museum. Now what would happen to them? ↗

— Elizabeth Jennings

#mother-daughter-relationships #southern-fiction #women-s-fiction #family

Unbelievable! You are unbelievable! First you ruin my life and then you blame it on my period! ↗

— Jane Aire

#mothers-and-daughters #life

But in the end I'd marry her to the one she herself loved. To a father, the man his daughter falls in love with herself always seems the worst. That's how it is. ↗

— Fyodor Dostoevksy

#father #marriage #love

Everything I did in P.E. was just awful. Archery was just something that we did as a father/daughter activity, and it just kind of grew out of that, really. ↗

— Miranda Leek

#archery #awful #daughter #did #everything

My youngest son, who is now the drummer in my band, lives in Brooklyn. My oldest son is about to move out to California, and my daughters are both out of town. ↗

— Herbie Mann

#band #both #brooklyn #california #daughters

I am the daughter of a Chicana and anglo. I think most days I am an embarrassment to both groups. I sometimes hate the white in me so viciously that I long to forget the commitment my skin has imposed upon my life. ↗

— Cherrie Moraga

#anglo #both #commitment #daughter #days

I have done everything I can to make sure my daughter knows her father because you form your own identity by rebelling against your parents - but first you have to know them. ↗

— Greta Scacchi

#because #daughter #done #everything #father

When I saw the embryo, I suddenly realized there was such a small difference between it and my daughters. I thought, we can't keep destroying embryos for our research. There must be another way. ↗

— Shinya Yamanaka

#another way #between #daughters #destroying #difference

I didn't get to grow up and pull away from her and bitch about her with my friends and confront her about the things I'd wished she'd done differently and then get older and understand that she had done the best she could and realize that what she had done was pretty damn good and take her fully back into my arms again. Her death had obliterated that. It had obliterated me. It had cut me short at the very heigh of my youthful arrogance. It had forced me to instantly grow up and forgive her every motherly fault at the same time that it kept me forever a child, my life both ended and begun in that premature place where we'd left off. She was my mother, but I was motherless. I was trapped by her, but utterly alone. She would always be the empty bowl that no one could full. I'd have to fill it myself again and again and again. ↗

— Cheryl Strayed

#anger-at-losing-a-mother #grieving-the-loss-of-a-mother #loosing-your-mother-too-young #losing-a-mother #anger

Since I’ve been home I’ve been trying hard to mend my relationship with my mother. Asking her to do things for me instead of brushing aside any offer of help, as I did for years out of anger. Letting her handle all the money I won. Returning her hugs instead of tolerating them. My time in the arena made me realize how I needed to stop punishing her for something she couldn’t help, specifically the crushing depression she fell into after my father’s death. Because sometimes things happen to people and they’re not equipped to deal with them. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#loss #mother-daughter #anger