Pastoral Resources

My mother is a singer, still performs today; she's a jazz singer.

My view on issues is based on common sense, and my experience as a mother of four children, as a sole parent, and as a businesswoman running a fish and chip shop.

Fear is the mother of foresight.

It is well for us that we are born babies in intellect. Could we understand half what mothers say and do to their infants, we should be filled with a conceit of our own importance, which would render us insupportable through life.

Happy the boy whose mother is tired of talking nonsense to him before he is old enough to know the sense of it.

A mother should give her children a superabundance of enthusiasm; that after they have lost all they are sure to lose on mixing with the world, enough may still remain to prompt fated support them through great actions.

You make sacrifices to become a mother, but you really find yourself and your soul.

When a woman gives birth to a child, the child needs to be able to digest the mother's milk; but when this child is old enough to begin to eat other foods, there is some switching off of this ability to consume milk.

Motherhood is at its best when the tender chords of sympathy have been touched.

My mother raised me in the church. I was not allowed to stay home on Sunday; there was no option. I sang in the choir all the way up until I went to college.

I remember my mother finding mud somehow and putting it on the sting.

My mother wanted very much to play tennis; she wanted, most of all, to be a singer and play the piano.

My mother loved the Bible.

I suppose you could say my father's world was Thomas Hardy and my mother's D.H. Lawrence.

My mother-in-law was with me during all four of my births and when she was sitting next to me holding my hand during the cesareans, well, I craved that.

I don't remember my mother ever playing with me. And she was a perfectly good mother. But she had to do the laundry and clean the house and do the grocery shopping.

To have gone through so much work to heal myself and have my mother not acknowledge in any way that she was sorry for what had happened to me, broke my heart.

And for anyone who ever thought that Ellen and I broke it off because of sexuality, you couldn't be more mistaken. And for anyone who thought my mother's prayers had anything to do with me marrying a man, forget it.

I told my mother at about the seventh year of therapy that I had been abused sexually by my father, and she hung up the phone on me.

Babies don't need fathers, but mothers do. Someone who is taking care of a baby needs to be taken care of.