#fathers

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;! ↗

— Rudyard Kipling

#ataraxy #coming-of-age #fathers-and-sons #philosophical #age

Doesn't seem quite real. It's not meaningful. I can't quite imagine myself being 73. That's the age my father was! [Laughter.] How can I be his age? It's weird. ↗

— Don DeLillo

#ageing #fathers #robert-mccrum #weirdness #age

When I was twenty-something, I asked my father, “When did you start feeling like a grownup?” His response: “Never. ↗

— Shannon Celebi

#father #fathers #fathers-and-daughters #growing-up #life

I will see my father in every anger. ↗

— Courtney Summers

#fathers #violence #anger

Loving my son, building my son, touching my son, playing with my son, being with my son… these aren’t tasks that only super dads can perform. These are tasks that every dad should perform. Always. Without fail. ↗

— Dan Pearce

#arguing #break #child #children #dads

*marissa tries to get her single, working mother's attention by suggesting something outrageous, to which mom replies:* 'You're a smart girl. Use your head and avoid any guy who reminds you of your father. ↗

— Camille Noe Pagán

#fathers #humor #mothers #parenting #art

Maybe not. But maybe that's how the world changes, Isaiah. One father, one child, at a time. ↗

— Barbara Samuel

#children #fathers #legacy #world #change

Good fathers, and by that I mean real fathers who are there, have the ability to change almost every social problem we now find ourselves facing. I’d be assumptive enough to say that there isn’t a single type of crime or a single problem so big that it couldn’t be fixed or wiped out if fathers would just step up. ↗

— Dan Pearce

#dads #fathers #parents #change

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. ↗

— Markus Zusak

#death #fathers #death

The Toys My little Son, who look'd from thoughtful eyes And moved and spoke in quiet grown-up wise, Having my law the seventh time disobey'd, I struck him, and dismiss'd With hard words and unkiss'd, —His Mother, who was patient, being dead. Then, fearing lest his grief should hinder sleep, I visited his bed, But found him slumbering deep, With darken'd eyelids, and their lashes yet From his late sobbing wet. And I, with moan, Kissing away his tears, left others of my own; For, on a table drawn beside his head, He had put, within his reach, A box of counters and a red-vein'd stone, A piece of glass abraded by the beach, And six or seven shells, A bottle with bluebells, And two French copper coins, ranged there with careful art, To comfort his sad heart. So when that night I pray'd To God, I wept, and said: Ah, when at last we lie with trancèd breath, Not vexing Thee in death, And Thou rememberest of what toys We made our joys, How weakly understood Thy great commanded good, Then, fatherly not less Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay, Thou'lt leave Thy wrath, and say, 'I will be sorry for their childishness. ↗

— Coventry Patmore

#fathers #god #kids #parents #toys