#moth

If you can't do great things, Mother Teresa used to say, do little things with great love. If you can't do them with great love, do them with a little love. If you can't do them with a little love, do them anyway. Love grows when people serve. ↗

— John Ortberg

#greatness #love #mother-teresa #serve #service

أمي ، هي الشخص الوحيد الذي يكاد يفهمني في كل شيء ↗

— هديل الحضيف

#mother #stories #love

Goodbye, Room." I wave up at Skylight. "Say goodbye," I tell Ma. "Goodbye, Room." Ma says it but on mute. I look back one more time. It's like a crater, a hole where something happened. Then we go out the door. ↗

— Emma Donoghue

#love #loyalty #motherhood #suffering #love

Gran, for the gods' love, it's talk like yours that starts riots!" I said keeping my voice down. "Will you just put a stopper in it?" She looked at me and sighed. "Girl, do you ever take a breath and wonder if folk don't put out bait for you? To see if you'll bite? You'll never get a man if you don't relax." My dear old Gran. It's a wonder her children aren't every one of them as mad as priests, if she mangles their wits as she mangles mine. "Granny, "I told her, "this is dead serious. I can't relax, no more than any Dog. I'm not shopping for a man. That's the last thing I need. ↗

— Tamora Pierce

#baiting #bickering #crazy #family-relationship #granddaughter

Mothers, I believe, intoxicate us. We idolize them and take them for granted. We hate them and blame them and exalt them more thoroughly than anyone else in our lives. We sift through the evidence of their love, reassure ourselves of their affection and its biological genesis. We can steal and lie and leave and they will love us. ↗

— Megan Mayhew Bergman

#love

The poets say some moths will do anything out of love for a flame [...] The moth takes off again, and we both step back, because he's circling at eye level now and seems to have lost rudder control, smacking into the wall on each round. He circles lower and lower, spinning around the candle in tighter revolutions, like a soap sud over an open drain. A few times he seems to touch the flame, but dances off unhurt. Then he ignites like a ball of hair, curling into an oily puff of fumes with a hiss. The candle flame flickers and dims for a moment, then burns as bright as before. Moth Smoke Lingers. ↗

— Mohsin Hamid

#insects #love #moth #smoke #star-crossed

But a mother-son relationship is not a coequal one, is it? He is lonely with only you just as you are lonely with only him. ↗

— Mary Balogh

#mother #son #love

I wondered if perhaps I'd gone mad. I had known this man less than twenty-four hours and already I wanted to raise his children. ↗

— Lucy Robinson

#insanity #motherhood #love

Out loud I said I had two children. Silently I said three. I always felt like apologizing to her for that. ↗

— Alice Sebold

#mother #love

For the first time in this 11 years--I have come to love the darkness--for I believe now that it is a part, a very, very small part of Jesus' dakness and pain on earth. You have taught me to accept it [as] a "spiritual side of 'your work'"... (Mother Teresa, quoated in Kolodiejchuk, p. 208). ↗

— Brian Kolodiejchuk

#spirituality #suffering #love