Father Quotes
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I was brought up in a very ordinary family, in fact, a worker's family. Both my father and mother were ordinary citizens.
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I'm not a great reader, believe it or not. It's not the vocabulary - my father made me read the dictionary when I was little - but my attention span is poor. Takes me months to read one book.
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I come from a family of storytellers. Growing up, my father would make up these stories about how he and my mother met and fell in love, and my mother would tell me these elaborately visual stories of growing up as a kid in New York, and I was always so enrapt.
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My father was from the South and turned me into a news junkie at a very early age. I would sit and watch TV with him.
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It's a little bit in the genes because my brother is a journalist and my father was a sports writer.
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St. Cyril of Jerusalem, in instructing catechumens, wrote: “The dragon sits by the side of the road, watching those who pass. Beware lest he devour you. We go to the Father of Souls, but it is necessary to pass by the dragon.” No matter what form the dragon may take, it is of this mysterious passage past him, or into his jaws, that stories of any depth will always be concerned to tell, and this being the case, it requires considerable courage at any time, in any country, not to turn away from the storyteller.
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I remember when I was very young, I had a fever - a long rheumatic fever in bed for four months. And in the days, I stayed alone with the maid. I only had my father's books with me. They were fantasy books about ghosts, and also books by Edgar Allen Poe that made a forever impression on me.
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I was an at-home father, taking care of them for seven years when they were babies. I was one of those new-age, at-home dads.
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My father was a very disciplined singer who worked hard at his craft, and I was around that growing up.
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I'd watch my father get up at 5 o'clock and go down to the Eastern Market in Detroit to do the shopping for his restaurant, and get that business going and then go out on his vending machine business.
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During his long political career, my father was always active in communicating the Christian gospel from the evangelical perspective,...
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I grew up in Manchester, and we were very poor. My father was a miner who joined the Navy during the war and developed a lung disease and had to have a lung removed.
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I love my dad. There is no doubt about that. He is a wonderful man and a good person. Like many father/son relationships, we have our struggles, our misunderstandings, and our miscommunications. We are very different people, but also very similar at the same time.
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My father raced bikes. He gave me the passion very early. I had my first bike when I was three or four years old.
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I think that my father would find it so confusing that people want to imitate him. Not because he didn't have confidence in who he was, but because he never imitated anybody. He was his own person.
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I expected to be a farmer like my father and brothers. Life seemed pleasant and orderly.
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I went bald when I was 18. My father cried. He cried about many things. But it allowed me to play older men in summer stock.
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Both my mother's family and my father's family go back almost a hundred years in the district. I was born in the district, raised in the district, raised my family in the district. And so that's the way I see myself.
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But the love of adventure was in father's blood.
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While I have always had a good relationship with my father, much of the time it has been a very limited relationship until I was older. So you can't really give him credit or blame for how I turned out.
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From childhood on, I did sit in the courtroom watching my father argue cases and talk to juries.
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I was very wary of repeating my father's behaviour and did everything not to act like he did.
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I don't mind being a grandfather; I've been a mother for so many years. You just can't believe what it's like being a father. Especially when you come out of the chaos of the road to getting married and having children.
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While this has been a private part of my family's life, it is now clear a media story will soon emerge. My father tragically ended his life while battling terminal cancer in 1979.
