#moth

The past is a presence between us. In all my mother does and says, the past continually discloses itself in the smallest ways. She sees it directly; I see its shadow. Still, it pulses in my fingertips, feeds on my consciousness. It is a backdrop for each act, each drama of our lives. I have absorbed a sense of what she has suffered, what she has lost, even what her mother endured and handed down. It is my emotional gene map. ↗

— Fern Schumer Chapman

#memoir #memory #mothers #holocaust

My mom told me once that Wyatt loved her the way a boy will love his mother, but I loved her the way an artist loves another. Jo taught me what that meant. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#artist #creativity #dating #death #family

There are lots of things sons shouldn’t imagine about their mothers, above all what it was like to become one. ↗

— Bauvard

#humor #imagination #mothers #sons #funny

How did your mother die?” asked Delk. “Car accident,” Katie replied, gazing out over the water. “She’d been to mass. A tire blew on the way home, and she was gone. I was nineteen, Pather’s age, when it happened. My brother was only eleven.” She paused. “I do know what you’re going through.” Katie looked at her. “Pather told you?” Katie nodded. Delk was glad Pather had told his sister; she was relieved not to have to tell the story again. “Does it ever . . . you know . . . get any better?” Katie shrugged her narrow shoulders and smiled. “In some ways it does, but it’s a bit like running a long race with a rock in your shoe. You get used to it, but it always hurts a little. ↗

— Suzanne Supplee

#delk #family #katie #mother #when-irish-guys-are-smiling

Necessity is the mother of taking chances. ↗

— Mark Twain

#mother #necessity #taking #taking chances

The mother's heart is the child's schoolroom. ↗

— Henry Ward Beecher

#child #heart #mother #schoolroom

What a mother sings to the cradle goes all the way down to the coffin. ↗

— Henry Ward Beecher

#cradle #down #goes #mother #sings

Every interview I do, it's basically 'how did he do it,' and I owe it all to my representation, and my manager is basically like my mother, she's so picky. ↗

— Jamie Bell

#did #every #how #i #i do

My mother brought me magicians and witches, because I was very ugly, really revolting. So she thought somebody had put a spell on me - this is the truth - so she made me drink some horrible terrifying potions, for year. ↗

— Roberto Benigni

#brought #drink #had #horrible #i

There's something wrong with a mother who washes out a measuring cup with soap and water after she's only measured water in it. ↗

— Erma Bombeck

#cup #measured #measuring #mother #only