Family Expectations Quotes

Quotes tagged as "family-expectations" Showing 1-3 of 3
Lena Manta
“He couldn't shame his father; they hadn't raised him that way. And the blood of the revolution didn't run in his veins. He would have to bury his heart.”
Lena Manta, La lettera d'oro

Sara Desai
“You haven't been yourself lately." Nikhil shook his head and sighed. "You've gone off the rails. We just want you to go back to being who you were--- sweet, good, quiet, respectful. Listen to the people who know what's best for you."
"Shut up, Nikhil." I was sick of him and his officious, condescending attitude, sick of him thinking he knew anything about me. Where was he when I was struggling at school? Where was he when I needed a big brother, or even a friend? "Why are you here anyway?"
"To make sure you do the right thing."
"And that would be what? Telling the head of a Mafia family I'm going to bail on his daughter's wedding? Do you know how much money he's paying me to see it through? You can't even count that high."
Nikhil swallowed hard. He couldn't stand being bested in any way. "We've found a perfect match for you. He's a dermatologist and he's looking for a wife. The family all agrees this is the best thing for you."
"Single and has a job. That's a pretty low bar." I said. "Personality. Interests. Political views. Sense of humor. Pets. Hobbies. Character. Intelligence. Values. None of those matter?"
"Not when you've lost all sense of who you are." Nikhil leaned forward. "Not when the family honor is at stake."
"Oh, I'm sorry." My voice dripped with sarcasm. "Did I go to sleep and wake up in the wrong century? The family honor? Since when does our family have honor? And in what universe did you ever think I would agree to something like this?”
Sara Desai, To Have and to Heist

“The bus stops and out get the sort of people who travel by bus between cities: students, old people--mainly women--and the middle-aged who cannot afford the train and who have never grown old enough to drive. Out we get, and away we go, the young, the old, and the failed girls.”
Joanna Walsh, Vertigo