You can know a thing to death and be for all purposes completely ignorant of it. A man can know his father, or his son, and there might still be nothing between them but loyalty and love and mutual in...
As he grew older, which was mostly in my absence, my firstborn son, Alexander, became ever more humorous and courageous. There came a time, as the confrontation with the enemies of our civilization be...
At sixteen, you still think you can escape from your father. You aren't listening to his voice speaking through your mouth, you don't see how your gestures already mirror his; you don't see him in the...
The monsters are gone.""Really?" Doubtful."I killed the monsters. That's what fathers do.
When you're a dad, there's no one above you. If I don't do something that has to be done, who is going to do it?
I'm so proud of you that it makes me proud of me. I hope you know that.
He made a good salary but he did not flaunt it. He’d been raised in Chicago proper by a Lithuanian Jewish mother who had grown up in poverty, telling stories, often, of extending a chicken to its full...
He needed me to do what sons do for their fathers: bear witness that they’re substantial, that they’re not hollow, not ringing absences. That they count for something when little else seems to.
When I went to first grade and the other children said that their fathers were farmers, I simply didn't believe them. I agreed in order to be polite, but in my heart I knew that those men were imposto...
What I really want to tell him is to pick up that baby of his and hold her tight, to set the moon on the edge of her crib and to hang her name up in the stars.
Weston: Look at my outlook. You don't envy it, right?Wesley: No.Weston: That's because it's full of poison. Infected. And you recognize poison, right? You recognize it when you see it?Wesley: Yes.West...
Well, it doesn't look good. Makes me look like one of those unloved latchkey children they make after-school specials about.Don't sell yourself short. You're more Masterpiece Theatre.
Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones. Papa was an accordion! But his bellows were all empty. Nothing went in and nothing came out.
They were talking more distantly than if they were strangers who had just met, for if they had been he would have been interested in her just because of that, and curious, but their common past was a...
Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.
They are always so quiet, he said, turning to Papa. So quiet.They are not like those loud children people are raising these days, with no home training and no fear of God, Papa said, and I was certain...
Then all the winds of Heaven ran to join hands and bend a shoulder, to bring down to me the sound of a noble hymn that was heavy with the perfume of Time That Has Gone.The glittering multitudes were s...
There he is then, the unfortunate brute, quite miserable because of me, for whom there is nothing to be done, and he so anxious to help, so used to giving orders and to being obeyed. There he is, ever...
There is nothing that moves a loving father's soul quite like his child's cry.
Our fathers of faith have done a great job delivering our nations from the clutches of idolatry and witchcraft through signs and wonders
Showing 41 to 60 of 92 results