#er

I wondered how long it took for a baby to become yours, for familiarity to set in. Maybe as long as it took a new car to lose that scent, or a brand-new house to gather dust. Maybe that was the process more commonly described as bonding: the act of learning your child as well as you know yourself. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#children #motherhood #parenting #motherhood

The only thing worse than fighting a giant scorpion was fighting a giant scorpion who was trying to protect her young. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#motherhood #motherhood

being a good mother does not mean being perfect every single moment. we screw up. we get mad, we drink too much, eat too much, yell too much. a good mother learns from her mistakes and does what she can to not let them happen over and over. ↗

— Amy Hatvany

#motherhood

If they would all sleep all the time she wouldn't mind being their mother. ↗

— Kate Atkinson

#motherhood

He also didn't mind Piper's using him for a pillow. She had a cute way of breathing when she slept - inhaling through the nose, exhaling with a little puff through the mouth. He was also disappointed when she woke up. ↗

— Rick Riordan

#jason-grace #piper #piper-mclean #cute

Conquer anger by love, evil by good; conquer the miser with liberality, and the liar with truth. ↗

— Gautama Buddha

#knowledge #love #truth #wisdom #anger

Piper gave Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile. Even with her hair messed up and wearing two-day-old clothes, she looked extremely cute, and Jason felt a little jealous she was giving Lit that smile. ↗

— Rick Riordan

#jason-grace #lit #piper #piper-mclean #cute

Guarding knowledge is not a good way to understand. Understanding means to throw away your knowledge. ↗

— Thích Nhất Hạnh

#knowledge #thich-nhat-hanh #understanding #buddhism

To know yourself you must know the transience of your self. ↗

— Ilyas Kassam

#evolution #impermanence #quantum #self #transience

I told her about the best and the worst. The slow and sleepy places where weekdays rolled past like weekends and Mondays didn’t matter. Battered shacks perched on cliffs overlooking the endless, rumpled sea. Afternoons spent waiting on the docks, swinging my legs off a pier until boats rolled in with crates full of oysters and crayfish still gasping. Pulling fishhooks out of my feet because I never wore shoes, playing with other kids whose names I never knew. Those were the unforgettable summers. There were outback towns where you couldn’t see the roads for red dust, grids of streets with wandering dogs and children who ran wild and swam naked in creeks. I remembered climbing ancient trees that had a heartbeat if you pressed your ear to them. Boomboom-boomboom. Dreamy nights sleeping by the campfire and waking up covered in fine ash, as if I’d slept through a nuclear holocaust. We were wanderers, always with our faces to the sun. ↗

— Vikki Wakefield

#town #traveling #wanderer #love