Father And Son Quotes

Quotes tagged as "father-and-son" Showing 1-30 of 75
Elizabeth Gaskell
“There is nothing like wounded affection for giving poignancy to anger.”
Elizabeth Gaskell, Wives and Daughters

“I'm so sorry, Henri," I whisper in his ear. I close my eyes. "I love you. I wouldn't have missed a second of it, either. Not for anything," I whisper. "I'm going to take you back yet. Somehow I am going to get you back to Lorien. We always joked about it but you were my father, the best father I could have ever asked for. I'll never forget you, not for a minute for as long as I live. I love you, Henri. I always did.”
Pittacus Lore, I Am Number Four

Dan Brown
“No love is greater than that of a father for His son.”
Dan Brown, Angels & Demons

Nicholas Sparks
“I knew my father had done the best he could, and I had no regrets about the way I'd turned out. Regrets about journey, maybe, but not the destination.”
Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

Bret Easton Ellis
“The heroin flowing through me, I thought about the last time I saw my father alive. He was drunk and overweight in a restaurant in Beverly Hills, and curling into myself on the bed I thought: What if I had done something that day? I had just sat passively in a restaurant booth as the midday light filled the half-empty dining room, pondering a decision. The decision was: should you disarm him? That was the word I remember: disarm. Should you tell him something that might not be the truth but would get the desired reaction? And what was I going to convince him of, even though it was a lie? Did it matter? Whatever it was, it would constitute a new beginning. The immediate line: You’re my father and I love you. I remember staring at the white tablecloth as I contemplated saying this. Could I actually do it? I didn’t believe it, and it wasn’t true, but I wanted it to be. For one moment, as my father ordered another vodka (it was two in the afternoon; this was his fourth) and started ranting about my mother and the slump in California real estate and how “your sisters” never called him, I realized it could actually happen, and that by saying this I would save him. I suddenly saw a future with my father. But the check came along with the drink and I was knocked out of my reverie by an argument he wanted to start and I simply stood up and walked away from the booth without looking back at him or saying goodbye and then I was standing in sunlight. Loosening my tie as a parking valet pulled up to the curb in the cream-colored 450 SL. I half smiled at the memory, for thinking that I could just let go of the damage that a father can do to a son. I never spoke to him again.”
Bret Easton Ellis, Lunar Park

André Aciman
“We may never speak about this again. But I hope you’ll never hold it against me that we did. I will have been a terrible father if, one day, you’d want to speak to me and felt that the door was shut or not sufficiently open.”
André Aciman, Call Me by Your Name

George Eliot
“It's a father's duty to give his sons a fine chance.”
George Eliot, Middlemarch

Arthur Koestler
“[My father] loved me tenderly and shyly from a distance, and later on took a naive pride in seeing my name in print.”
Arthur Koestler

Yusuf Islam
“To be calm when you've found something going on”
Yusuf Islam

“...why can't I stop all the moving and look out over the vast arrangements and find by the contours and colors and qualities of light where my father is, not to solve anything but just simply even to see it again one last time, before what, before it ends, before it stops. But it doesn't stop; it simply ends. It is a final pattern scattered without so much as a pause at the end, at the end of what, at the end of this.”
Paul Harding

David   Crow
“After running from pursuers a good part of my life, I was used to hiding in the shadows. But now, I was trying to save myself from the ultimate bully, my murderous father.”
David Crow, The Pale-Faced Lie

Son, we are all products of operant conditioning. By daring to think outside the box,
“Son, we are all products of operant conditioning. By daring to think outside the box, you'll be judged. Stay the course. Heightened cognizance is meaningful only when freely sought out and discovered. Not when it is incrementally spoon-fed to you throughout your lifetime.”
A.K. Kuykendall

“This body is from my humanly father and this soul is from my heavenly father, death is for my body not for my soul”
P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

“Sons aspire to either become their father or vie to be his exact opposite.”
Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

Matt Goulding
“We start with a next-generation miso soup: Kyoto's famous sweet white miso whisked with dashi made from lobster shells, with large chunks of tender claw meat and wilted spinach bobbing on the soup's surface.
The son takes a cube of topflight Wagyu off the grill, charred on the outside, rare in the center, and swaddles it with green onions and a scoop of melting sea urchin- a surf-and-turf to end all others.
The father lays down a gorgeous ceramic plate with a poem painted on its surface. "From the sixteenth century," he tells us, then goes about constructing the dish with his son, piece by piece: First, a chunk of tilefish wrapped around a grilled matsutake mushroom stem. Then a thick triangle of grilled mushroom cap, plus another grilled stem the size of a D-sized battery, topped with mushroom miso. A pickled ginger shoot, a few tender soybeans, and the crowning touch, the tilefish skin, separated from its body and fried into a ripple wave of crunch.
The rice course arrives in a small bamboo steamer. The young chef works quickly. He slices curtains of tuna belly from a massive, fat-streaked block, dips it briefly in house-made soy sauce, then lays it on the rice. Over the top he spoons a sauce of seaweed and crushed sesame seeds just as the tuna fat begins to melt into the grains below.
A round of tempura comes next: a harvest moon of creamy pumpkin, a gold nugget of blowfish capped with a translucent daikon sauce, and finally a soft, custardy chunk of salmon liver, intensely fatty with a bitter edge, a flavor that I've never tasted before.
The last savory course comes in a large ice block carved into the shape of a bowl. Inside, a nest of soba noodles tinted green with powdered matcha floating in a dashi charged with citrus and topped with a false quail egg, the white fashioned from grated daikon.”
Matt Goulding, Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture

Matt Goulding
“He's on to sashimi now, fanning and curling slices of snapper and fugu into white roses on his cutting board. Before Toshio can plate the slices, Shunichi reaches over and calmly replaces the serving plate his son has chosen with an Edo-era ceramic rectangle more to his liking.
Three pieces of tempura- shrimp, eggplant, new onion- emerge hissing and golden from the black iron pot in the corner, and Toshio arranges them on small plates with wedges of Japanese lime. Before the tempura goes out, Shunichi sneaks in a few extra granules of salt while Toshio's not looking.
By now Dad is shadowing his son's every move. As Toshio waves a thin plank of sea cucumber eggs over the charcoal fire, his dad leans gently over his shoulder. "Be careful. You don't want to cook it. You just want to release its aroma."
Toshio places a fried silverfish spine on a craggy ceramic plate, tucks grated yuzu and sansho flowers into its ribs, then lays a sliver of the dried eggs over the top. The bones shatter like a potato chip, and the sea cucumber detonates in my mouth.”
Matt Goulding, Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture

“Sons are justifiably critical of their fathers because their crucial judgments will reflect on type of husband and fathers that they aspire to become.”
Kilroy J. Oldster

Paul Auster
“عندما يموت الأب يصير الإبن أبا نفسه و ابن نفسه في نفس الوقت. ينظر إلى وجه طفله ويرى نفسه في وجه الصبي ، يتخيل ما الذي يراه الصبي عندما يلتفت نحوه وينظر إلى وجهه و يتكشّف للصبي أنه أبو نفسه. ولسبب غامض يجد نفسه مأخوذا بهذه الفكرة ، ليس منظر الصبي مكتشفا الحقائق هو ما دوّخه باللذة ، ولا حتى فكرة أنه يقف داخل أبيه ، ولكن الذي يراه في وجه الصبي من حياته الماضية المتلاشية. إنها حالة من "النوستالجيا" لحياته نفسها ، هذا ما يشعر به ، ربما ذكرى لطفولته كابن لوالده. ولسبب غامض أيضا يجد نفسه يرتعش في تلك اللحطة من الفرح ومن الأسى معا -لو كان هذا ممكنا- وكأنه يتقدم وفي نفس الوقت يتخلف ، نحو المستقبل ونحو الماضي معا. وهناك أوقات ، ودائما ما كانت هناك مثل هذه الأوقات ، عندما تكون هذه المشاعر في أشد قوتها وانفلاتها ، حتى يعود غير واثق من أن حياته تقيم في الزمن الحاضر”
Paul Auster, The Invention of Solitude

“Becoming a father increased my capacity for love, to love and to be loved. When I fell hook, line and sinker for Helena, I would never have believed that I would be able to give, that I could even consider sharing a single fragment of my heart with another- only her, but as I sit here in the rocking chair and a serene calmness surrounds me, I gaze down upon our four day old twins, Athos and Lucy. While I cradle these tiny little miracles of life in the crook of my arms, another level of love expands within the four chambers of my heart. Everything that once created my tumultuous past has paled into insignificance, and at last I finally feel as if I am not just systematically breathing in oxygen but that I am alive in the truest sense of the word. © J.L. Thomas 2019”
Jl Thomas

“My father liked to tell a story about a day when I got discouraged. From the warmth of the car, he had been watching me flounder — I imagine him smoking his pipe, wearing a big fluffy fisherman’s sweater. I came in, my feet and knees bleeding, stumbling across the rocks, dropping my board, humiliated and exhausted. He told me to go back out and catch three more waves. I refused. He insisted. I could ride them on my knees if necessary, he said. I was furious. But I went back out and caught the waves, and in his version of the story, that was when I became a surfer. If he hadn’t made me go back out that day, I would have quit. He was sure of that.”
William Finnegan, Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life

“A father's love is like your shadow, though he is dead or alive, he will live with your shadow”
P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

Amy E. Reichert
“This looks amazing, what is it?"
He was surprised when Bass answered instead of Einars.
"It's caramel apple bread pudding with a cider sauce."
Bass looked at Einars as he spoke and smiled when Einars nodded that he'd gotten it correct, Bass's pride obvious on his glowing face. See? He wouldn't have had this moment in San Jose- this was what they were here for- new experiences and new memories away from the complicated heartache. Some of Isaac's guilt eased the more Bass's smile widened.
"You helped make this?" Isaac said. He scooped up a large bite and his taste buds exploded with joy. Cinnamon apples and custardy bread pudding melded together with the creamy caramel sauce spiked with cider. It might be the perfect dessert. "Good job, Sharky."
Sanna leaned toward Bass across the table and whispered loudly, "You did a better job than my dad normally does."
She didn't smile or wink to undermine the verity of her words or dumb it down, just issued the straight compliment. Isaac's heart melted as Bass sat up taller in his chair. Maybe that wasn't the only reason Isaac's heart melted.”
Amy E. Reichert, The Simplicity of Cider

Petra Hermans
“My grandfather showed me, how to take care of the crows.”
Petra Hermans, Voor een betere wereld

James Nulick
“I have outlived my father, a boy doesn't become a man until his father dies, and I have reached the grand climacteric, and I have built an empire of it, erasing the dead. I have become my father's son.”
James Nulick, Haunted Girlfriend

Sazal Chowdhury
“❝...“কিছু পুরুষদের ভালোবাসাটা বুকপকেটে থাকে প্রেমপত্রের মতো ঘাঁপটি মেরে চুপটি করে। এটা পয়সার মতো ঝনঝন করে বাজে না। বাজে না নূপুুরের মতোও। এটা ঘুড়ির মতো, অনেক উঁচুতে চুপচাপ উড়ে বেড়ায়–কিছু অতিসংকোচের টানে।

এই পুরুষরা কোনো কিছুর প্রেমে পড়ে না। কারো প্রতি প্রেম বুকে জমানোও তাদের জন্য নিষেধ। কাঁধে দায়িত্ব অনেক। হিসাবের খসড়াটা বার বার কাটাছেঁড়া করতে হয়। কদম ফেলার চেয়ে চিন্তা বেশি করতে হয়।

তারা কাছের মানুষদেরকে লজ্জায় বলতে পারে না, ‘ভালোবাসি।’ কিন্তু লজ্জার মাথা খুঁইয়ে হাত পাততে পারে–বাকিদের লজ্জা নিবারণের জন্য।

কারো চোখে তাদের স্বপ্ন দেখা ভীষণ বারণ। কারণ, অনেকগুলো চোখ তাদের দিকে চেয়ে থাকে, বেঁচে থাকার আশায়; আশা পূরণের আশায়।
আমরা এই পুরুষদের নাম দিয়েছি–‘বাবা।’ ”...❞”
Sazal Chowdhury, পলাতক

Stacey Ballis
“You know what is so cool, Jenna?"
"What's that, my little man?"
"My friends? All their dads let them win all the time. Board games, cards, video games, sports. My dad? He always tries his hardest because he says he wants me to try my hardest, and because he only wants me to know what it feels like to really win for real, and because he says the only thing better in the world than a winner is a gracious loser."
I am gobsmacked. First of all, the fact that Noah appreciates the fact that his dad has never let him win all these years, and second, that it was actually a conscientious parenting decision as opposed to a juvenile need to win that drives Wayne's actions.
"Yeah, I bet it feels really good to know that you won even though he was trying his hardest to beat you." I hope no one else can see the lightbulb over my head right now.
"It. Is. AWESOME.”
Stacey Ballis, Out to Lunch

Fábio Moon
“Omar went to the funeral, but watched from afar. So distant that his brother, who hadn’t even come, seemed closer to his father’s final departure. Yaqub ordered a wreath to be delivered, along with an epitaph. “Fond memories of my father, who even from a distance, was always present.”
Fábio Moon, Two Brothers

Fábio Moon
“Only you don’t change, Omar. You’re still a wreck. Look at your clothes, your hair…the hour you arrive at home. Now you have no father, you should look for a job and stop with this idle lunacy. Your father couldn’t bear looking at you like this. He couldn’t bear watching your life thrown away.”
Fábio Moon, Two Brothers

Ezra Claytan Daniels
“Do you remember when Henry died? Do you remember how it felt when we saw Dad cry for the first time? We were six. We held his hand as Henry's casket was lowered into the ground. And Dad told us, "The death of a man is not the death of his dream." Do you remember that?”
Ezra Claytan Daniels, Upgrade Soul

Marjane Satrapi
“I'm going to die and my son farts in my face... what a waste!”
Marjane Satrapi, Chicken with Plums

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