Mom's Hands Famous Quotes & Sayings
72 Mom's Hands Famous Sayings, Quotes and Quotation.
God is home to us. He is where we were made to be. He is what we were made for. We just forget all that while we are trying to be good and independent. Pretending to be good halts God's movement in our life. Legalism or religion helps us feel better about ourselves, puffs us up, gives us the posture to be critical and judgmental and prideful. Oh, and everything human about us loves that. It feels better to live that way. It feels better to walk independently and all grown-up, not holding hands with your mom on the River Walk when you want to feel cool and like an adult. We want to not need God.— Jennie Allen
In keeping with the theme of "I got my hands on," my brother and I would listen to The Diceman Cometh. That was the dirtiest thing we'd ever heard, and we could listen to that at full volume without fear of penalty, because my mom couldn't hear that either. I wasn't a huge comedy fan growing up, but I definitely listened to Andrew Dice Clay a lot.— Moshe Kasher
To the highest leadership among women it is given to hold steadily in one hand the sacred vessels that hold the ancient sanctities of life, and in the other a flaming torch to light the way for oncoming generations.— Anna Garlin Spencer
I have a stand-up routine I do about masturbation and the unwanted thoughts that go through women's heads when they put their hands under their sheets. I need a story to think about. I need a fantasy that makes sense. I can't just finger myself and picture Johnny Depp's face. It needs a sense of realism, like how did I meet Johnny Depp? He lives in France. I don't have a work visa. Besides, he has children and I've made it quite clear that I don't want to be a mom and I don't want to be stepmom either.— Jen Kirkman
I was slow to pick up on their hints. I knew what the Selection was, but never, not even once, had it been suggested as an option for any of us, let alone me.— Kiera Cass
"No."
Mom put up her hands, cautioning me. "Just listen-"
"A Selection?" I burst out. "That's insane!"
"Eadlyn, you're being irrational. "
I glared at her. "You promised- you promised- you'd never force me into marrying someone for an alliance. How is this any better?"
"Hear us out," she urged.
"No!" I shouted. "I won't do it.
A light was on in the kitchen. His mother sat at the kitchen table, as still as a statue. Her hands were clasped together, and she stared fixatedly at a small stain on the tablecloth. Gregor remembered seeing her that way so many nights after his dad had disappeared. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to scare her or shock her or ever give her any more pain.— Suzanne Collins
So, he stepped into the light of the kitchen and said the one thing he knew she wanted to hear most in the world.
Hey, Mom. We're home.
I don't, as my mom would say, sweat the small stuff in our relationship. Because when I think of day-to-day irritations that you might have with the one you love, they're nothing compared to the bigger task at hand.— Michelle Obama
Positive. In other news, Marcie's throwing a Halloween party here at the farmhouse."— Becca Fitzpatrick
Patch smiled. "Grey - Millar family drama?"
"The theme is famous couples from history. Could she be any less original? Worse, she's roped my mom into this. They went shopping for decorations today. For three whole hours. It's like they're suddenly best friends." I picked up another apple slice and made a face at it. "Marcie is ruining everything. I wanted Scott to go with Vee, but Marcie already convinced him to go with her." Patch's smile widened.
I aimed my best sulky look at him. "This isn't funny. Marcie is destroying my life. Whose side are you on anyway?"
Patch raised his hands in surrender. "I'm staying out of this.
Our frog lies on her back. Waiting for a prince to come and princessify her with a smooch? I stand over her with my knife. Ms. Keen's voice fades to a mosquito whine. My throat closes off. It is hard to breathe. I put out my hand to steady myself against the table. David pins her froggy hands to the dissection tray. He spreads her froggy legs and pins her froggy feet. I have to slice open her belly. She doesn't say a word. She is already dead. A scream starts in my gut - I can feel the cut, smell the dirt, leaves in my hair. I don't remember passing out. David says I hit my head on the edge of the table on my way down. The nurse calls my mom because I need stitches. The doctor stares into the back of my eyes with a bright light. Can she read the— Laurie Halse Anderson
Don't worry about her!" Troy shouted from behind her. "She's in good hands!"— Rainbow Rowell
Elena's mom looked aghast. But she still drove away.
"I'm sorry," Troy said. "Did I make that worse? I meant the hands of the line.
Even just the thought her ... God. I may end up being— Emma Chase
the first man in history capable of masturbating without touching himself.
Look, Mom - no hands.
My dad was the one who really loved basketball, and he was the one that put the basketball in my hands, and my mom was 'Team Mom' of all my teams. I used to play for three or four teams at once and she would just spend her entire afternoon driving me from practice to practice to practice.— Jeremy Lin
What kind of a father could do that?! It was bad enough - "— Shaye Evans
I cut him off. "Wait, what?" I snapped my head toward him, knowing my gaze was glassy, the corners of my eyes stinging with tears that had forced their way to the surface.
"How could your dad do that to you, let alone at this time of the year? And after everything with your mom - Christmas is about family."
"Wait," I sniffed, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands. "You were calling my dad a prick?"
"Yeah, who else? Why are you cryin - Oh, Harper, no, I didn't mean you.
So Caymen ... "— Kasie West
"So, Xander ... "
"Like the islands."
"What?"
"Your name. Caymen. Like the Cayman Islands. Is that your mom's favourite place to visit or something?"
"No, it's her third favourite place. I have an older brother named Paris and an older sister named Sydney."
"Wow." He opens the bag, takes out a muffin, and hands it to me. The top glistens with sprinkled sugar. "Really?"
I gently unwrap it. "No.
I tried to slow my racing heartbeat. I didn't want to alarm her. "Mom, it's just, the last time I was here you thought I was your best friend." She smiled. "You are my best friend. You have been ever since you were this high. You and I have always been in this together." I drank in her words like the parched ground swallows rain. I reached out and took her cool hands in mine. "I've missed you so much," I said, trying to contain the flood of emotion washing over me. "There's so much I've wanted to share with you. To talk with you about." "Why don't you start with why you're so sad?" she said, in that tone that would not be denied.— Roxy Sloane
One of the [Million Mom] marchers said 'the hands that rock the cradle rule this nation.' I thought, 'no Madame, the hands that rock the cradle rule our families and governments and corporations. The hands that wrote the Constitution rule this nation'.— Charlton Heston
![Mom's Hands Sayings By Charlton Heston: One of the [Million Mom] marchers said 'the hands that rock the cradle rule this](https://www.greatsayings.net/images/moms-hands-sayings-by-charlton-heston-1074994.jpg "Mom's Hands Sayings By Charlton Heston: One of the [Million Mom] marchers said 'the hands that rock the cradle rule this")
The real beauty of it - key to my life was playing key chords on a banjo. For somebody else it may be a golf club that mom and dad put in their hands or a baseball or ballet lessons. Real gift to give to me and put it in writing.— Vince Gill
Because you have no survival instinct, Grace. You're like a tank, you just chug along< thinking nothing can stop you, until you meet up with a bigger tank. Are you sure you want to go out with someone with that kind of history?" mom seemed to warm her theory. " he couldhave a psychotic break. I read that people get those when they're twenty-eight. he could be almost normal and then suddenly go slasher. I mean, you know I've never told you what to do with your life before now. But what if-I told you not to see him?"— Maggie Stiefvater
I hadn't been expecting that. My voice was brittle. "I would say that by virtue of your not acting parental up to this point, you've relinquished your abiblity to wield any power now. Sam and I are together. It's not an option."
Mom threw her hands up as if trying to stop the Grace-tank from running over her. "Okay. Fine. Just be careful, okay? Whatever. I'm going to get a drink."
And just like that her parental engergies were expendede.
Adam Roberts is an original: smart, funny, talented, endlessly inquisitive, an A student and, happily for us, an A+ teacher. Everyone from beginner cooks to sure hands will learn something new on each page. And even if, like Adam's mom's, your stove stores shoes and handbags, you'll still be charmed by Secrets-it's a great read.— Dorie Greenspan
For those of you who think that I have my life altogether, I definitely do not. Every season brings new challenges. For example, since I had my fifth child, I am notoriously 5-10 minutes late everywhere no matter how hard I try to be on time. I would like to say that I am "fashionably" late, but that isn't the truth either. Running in a mad dash in a parking lot (all holding hands of course) to make it somewhere 5 minutes late (instead of 6 minutes cause that makes a big difference) while one child is missing shoes and my hair is going in every direction. Yep, that is my family.— Tamara L. Chilver
A parent holds within their hands the gift of a child to which they must expend the gift of themselves. And in such a monumental outpouring, the parent will lose both the child and the gifts given, but they will possess the far greater gift of knowing that they gave both.— Craig D. Lounsbrough
Her mom showed her that when life hands you tragedy, you can do two things with it. You can let it kick you down and make you weak and turn you into a victim. Or you can have hope that you'll get through it and there's still something amazing to live for.— Katie Kacvinsky
Dylan tells me victims don't make it very far in life.
She picked up a different photo from the nightstand and handed it to me to look at. At first, I thought it was just another copy of the class picture, because it was exactly the same size as the class picture Dad had in his hands, and everything in it was exactly the same. I started to look away in disgust, but Mom pointed to a place on the photo - the place where Auggie used to be! He was nowhere in the photo.— R.J. Palacio
Everything okay, sweet pea?" Garret asked as he walked over.— Maya Banks
"Yep. Just talking to Sean and getting some fresh air."
Garret shoved his hands into his pockets. "You mean you're hiding out here with this pussy who's here for the same reason."
Sean grunted. "Yeah, the exact same reason you've run outside like a damn girl."
Garret grinned. "Too many damned people. Ma eats that shit up, but I swear it makes the rest of us crazy."
"So at what point is she going to figure out we've fled the premises?" Rachel asked. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Marlene's feelings.
"Not to worry. Mom is well used to having to round us up. She usually gives us ten minutes or so to get the crazed look from our eyes, and then she'll come out all sweet-like but with a glint in her eyes you know better than to ignore."
"And at that point, she drags us back inside by our ears," Sean finished.
One of the greatest pieces of advice I've ever gotten in my life was from my mom. When I was a little kid there was a kid who was bugging me at school and she said Okay, I'm gonna tell you what to do. If the kid's bugging you and puts his hands on you; you pick up the nearest rock ...— Johnny Depp
She turns to me, and I shouldn't cry but I do, not because it hurts, but because I am scared, and Iraised my hands, and Ben saved us, and now there is this girl looking at me, and she looks at me kindof the way a mom does, and that shouldn't crack me open, but it does.— John Green
Alexander shows Anthony how he crouches and she climbs on his shoulders; he straightens up, holding on to her hands and then lets go, and she also straightens up and balances, standing on top of his shoulders for a long moment before pushing off his trapezoid in a nearly perfect, splashless forward dive. Mom, says Anthony, looking impressed, where did you and Dad learn to do that? And Dad, glancing at Mom in the water, says, Lazarevo.— Paullina Simons
This is us. Our pose. The smush. It's even how we are in the ultrasound photo they took of us inside Mom and how I had us in the picture Fry ripped up yesterday. Unlike most everyone else on earth, from the very first cells of us, we were together, we came here together. This is why no one hardly notices that Jude does most of the talking for both of us, why we can only play piano with all four of our hands on the keyboard and not at all alone, why we can never do Rochambeau because not once in thirteen years have we chosen differently. It's always: two rocks, two papers, two scissors. When I don't draw us like this, I draw us as half-people.— Jandy Nelson
Officer Downing pulls into the driveway next to Mom's car. Of course she's home. I don't know why I even wasted hope that she wouldn't be. Maybe because I'm eighteen, which means they don't bother calling your parents to the scene. But even if I'm not a victim of the law, I'm a victim of the small-town grapevine. A victim of flashing blue lights, whispered scorn, and heads shaking in disapproval. And, boy, do I feel like a victim, because not only is she home, she's standing on the front porch, arms crossed. Waiting.— Anna Banks
Officer Downing opens the back door to the low-budget cop car that smells like vinyl, BO, and humiliation. I step out. He hands me my backpack, which Rachel was so kind to bring out when we dropped Rayna off at Galen's house. She was also kind enough not to kill me for showing up at her house with a cop.
To be a mother is a woman's greatest vocation in life. She is a partner with God. No being has a position of such power and influence. She holds in her hands the destiny of nations, for to her comes the responsibility and opportunity of molding the nation's citizens.— Spencer W. Kimball
At least you still hear from him," Mel says gently. "Once in a while."— Patrick Ness
Henna shakes her head, like that doesn't help, which of course it doesn't. "I think it's why my mom and dad go on all these mission trips. Try to beat some of the darkness out of the world w/their bare hands."
She makes this sound both impressive and a sad, sad, waste of time. There's also pity. They did lose their son. The Silvennoinens are as complicated as anyone else. More, if you count trying to say their last name out loud.
I think I'm a really hands-on mom.— Brooke Burke
I know it hurts, honey." Mom flipped off the gas stove and wiped her hands on her apron, turning to face me fully. "And it's okay to hurt. Hurting is just as much a part of life as joy, maybe even more important. Falling down teaches you how to stand up." I— Penny Reid
Don't even think it. Move all the way back. Both of you. On your stomachs, hands behind your heads. Now!"— Rysa Walker
Yeah, it's straight out of NCIS. I guess Mom's crush on that Gibbs guy came in handy.
My mom had gotten a Super 8 camera to make home movies with, and my brother and me got our hands on it and ran with it.— Lev Yilmaz
And I sit down at the kitchen table and realize that Mom really died. That she'll never come back. And that I am alone. Cold hands reach out for me, threaten to pull me into a dark place where I might never escape, and I let them. It's like I'm trapped in a block of ice that nothing can penetrate. Everything around me is just a blur of colour, a flash of movement, garbled sounds. I can't quite decipher and don't want to. Time passes like sludge— Michelle Krys
In the Latina/o culture, blessing is a big deal. Growing up, I was brought up to see the blessings that surrounded me and my family. As a child, after I'd said my prayers, my mom would send me to bed with a blessing for a good night's rest. Whenever I would leave my abuelita's (grandmother's) house, she would tell me, "Dios te bendiga, mijito" ("God bless you, my little one"). In my family and in many Latina/o households, the women are the vessels of God's blessing, and thus bestowers and distributors of this blessing to their families. To this day, even though I am grown and have two children of my own, whenever I travel somewhere distant or am undertaking a major project, my mother will sit me down, lay hands on me, and say a prayer of blessing.— Francisco J. Garcia Jr.
It was the way your sweet, soft hands wiped away my tears, and the way your body just curved into mine when you let me hold you. It all made me feel, for just an instant, that everything really was going to be all right. No one has ever comforted me like that ... except my mom." What the fuck? Did I just say all that out loud? I shook my head furiously from side to side as the room started spinning me like a Tilt-a-Whirl at the county fair back home.— Katie Ashley
Abby grabbed my shoulders to steady me. I blinked my eyes trying to focus on her blurry, but beautiful image. "Most of all, it's that I want someone like you to want me - just for me, not for Jake Slater the singer of Runaway Train." I smacked my hand hard against my chest. "For what's really inside me.
I got a burlap sack, put a brick in the middle, and filled it with rags, corncobs, some Spanish moss, and sand. I hung that sack off the branch of an oak tree. I'd wrap my hands with a necktie of my daddy's and punch at it. My mom gave me an hour a day. My brothers and sisters said, "Nah." I said, "You'll see."— Joe Frazier
I think she's afraid to even hug me now. It's my fault, but I miss it, Andrew. I miss it so much it aches sometimes, you know?'— J.H. Trumble
I do know. I do know, I want to tell him, but I let him talk. And he does, with a gut-wrenching honesty that tears at my heart.
'I want to be held. Is that so wrong? I want to be held, and stroked. I want to know that someone loves me. I want to feel it on my skin.' He looks at the ceiling and exhales, then meets my eyes again. 'But nobody touches me anymore. Not even when I have a fever. Mom just hands me a thermometer now.' He drops his eyes and his ears redden. 'Even when you kiss me, you don't touch me. It's like I'm a leper or something. I can hardly keep my hands off of you, but it's not the same for you, is it?
We've been chatting about our men and wedding stuff. Terah says, "God, sometimes I look at Jon and think 'how the Hell did I manage to get you?' We're so lucky."— Belle Aurora
Mom adds, "They are very handsome."
Terah and I scoff. Shaking my head, I say, "Handsome is something. And Nox is handsome most times. But, by God, he is hot. Hotter than Hell, Mom. I never thought I could love someone so much. I can hardly keep my hands off him."
Mom chastises on a gasp, "Lily! That's inappropriate! You're a lady and ladies do not speak that way."
Terah chuckles, "Screw being a lady. I love my special cuddle time with Jon."
Mom covers her ears, but barks out an embarrassed laugh, "I cannot hear this! You girls can clean the rest up while I powder my nose."
Terah and I chuckle, watching her leave.
But mostly, when I look back, what I remember is not Mom rushing about; it's Mom sitting quietly in the center of the house, in the living room, under the swirling colors of a Paul Jenkins painting; there would be a fire in the fireplace and a throw over her lap, her hands sticking out to hold a book. And we all wanted to be there with her and Dad, reading quietly too.— Will Schwalbe
I like where I live," he said, landing behind the side pocket in his best Peter Pan pose. "You two women are too flaky to put my family in your hands. Just ask anyone here. They'd agree with me!"— Kim Harrison
Ivy huffed and turned her back on him, muttering under her breath, but I could tell she was relieved her new landlord wasn't her mom.
Link ran his hands over his hair nervously. Dude, my mom's a Baptist. You think she's gonna let me stay in the house when she finds out I'm a Demon? She doesn't even like Methodists.— Kami Garcia
Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"— J.K. Rowling
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees - Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.
By the way," I said, "I wanted to tell you - about why I decided to hike the PCT? I got divorced. I was married and not long ago I got divorced, and also about four years ago my mom died - she was only forty-five and she got cancer suddenly and died. It's been a hard time in my life and I've sort of gotten offtrack. So I ... " He opened his eyes wider, looking at me. "I thought it would help me find my center, to come out here." I made a crumpled gesture with my hands, out of words, a bit surprised that I'd let so many tumble out.— Cheryl Strayed
I put my hands on my hips. "What's wrong with the way I look?"— Rachel Morgan
"Come on, Vi," he says, keeping his voice low. "You just need to add your boots and you're like the forest version of Lara Croft."
"Excuse me? Lara who?"
"I mean, it's really sexy and everything." He pulls me closer and slips his arms around my waist. "But it's not exactly the way I'd want you to meet my mom.
I swear to God, if you do not put Mom on the line I'm going to choke you in your sleep." "With your bare hands or your pretentious infinity scarf?" Rell joked.— Raine O'Tierney
She whirled when the monster was almost on top of her. I thought the thing in her hands was an umbrella until she cranked the pump and the shotgun blast blew the giant twenty feet backwards, right into Nico's sword.— Rick Riordan
"Nice one," Paul said.
"When did you learn to fire a shotgun?" I demanded.
My mom blew the hair out of her face. "About two seconds ago. Percy, we'll be fine. Go!
Either I protect my friends and lie low until the fight for Radiasure is over, or I put everyone in harm's way and make sure that horrible drug never gets made again. Maybe if I was only putting myself at risk, I could be okay with it. But I can't make this decision for my friends and family. This is too much for one invisible girl to handle. "What do I do, Mom?"— Natalie Whipple
She puts her hands on my shoulders. "Sit down. I'll get the Pop Tarts.
Learn to expect less from life and more from yourself. Accept the changes that life throws at you. Remember, your destiny is pretty much in your hands. So, as your mom may have told you, keep them clean.— Lynda Resnick
My mother does not own my hands, though she works hard to train them.— Richelle E. Goodrich
My mother does not own my eyes, though she frequently directs their focus.
My mother does not own my mind, though she yields great influence upon it.
My heart, however, she owns completely, for it was hers the day I was born.
Loving someone isn't about wanting them to evolve into someone better. My mom taught me that.— Julie Johnson
Real love is saying: here, take my still-beating heart and hold it in your hands and please, please, please, promise not to squeeze too tight or drop it on the pavement. Love is being naked and afraid, but refusing to flinch.
It's a mission for me to make sure that philanthropy doesn't feel like a vintage hand-me-down from mom or dad. I want people to feel compelled to do something positive because they just love it, they're excited about it, and it's cool.— Usher
Mrs. Muldoon walks down the line, handing out the most beautiful bouquets I have ever seen. Like the ones that brides carry. Dark red ribbons that wind around the stems like a barbershop light pole. Ribbons dangle from the bottom, too. She hands my bunch to me, and I smile thinking of how much my mom will love to see me with them. Keisha— Lynda Mullaly Hunt
When Roseanne read the first script of mine that got into her hands without being edited by someone else she said, 'How can you write a middle-aged woman this well?' I said, 'If you met my mom you wouldn't ask'.— Joss Whedon
I'm a real stay-at-home mom. I'm really hands-on. Everything else became secondary.— Drew Barrymore
Thanks to all the moving around Mom and I had done, I hadn't had a birthday party since I was eight years old. That had been at Chuck E. Cheese. Something told me the Council had something more elaborate in mind.— Rachel Hawkins
"They don't need to do that," I said, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Especially with all that's going on right now."
Nick flashed me a wolfish grin. "That's Prodigium for you. Very 'fiddle while Rome burns.
We had a short reprieve as Dad cupped Mom's face and ran— Alyxandra Harvey
his hands down her neck, over her shoulders. "Helena, are you
hurt?"
She waved that away. "I'm fine." She smiled briefly, then
turned hard eyes on us. Each of us took a healthy step
backward and not a single one of us felt any less manly for the
wise retreat.
This is beautiful," I said, ignoring the shop window to trace the gleaming stone walls fronting another boutique.— Justina Chen
"You know what's funny?" Jacob asked. He didn't wait for my answer. "You can see beauty in everything, except for yourself."
***
I swallowed hard. Erik thought my body was beautiful, Karin that it was enviable. At random times, people had noted that my hands were beautiful, or my hair. The Twisted Sisters had called my art beautiful. Mom had the best intentions and always told me before and after my laser surgeries that I would be beautiful. But no one had ever said that I was beautiful, all my parts taken together, not just the bits and pieces.
You can do better than that." He loops his arms around my waist and pulls me to him.— Huntley Fitzpatrick
"Where are your gloves?"
"Better than that too." He drops a kiss on my collarbone. "Good to see you, Cass. I dreamed about you, Cass ... Feel free to improvise."
"Aren't you supposed to be wearing those work gloves? When you're working? Because otherwise your poor hands won't ... "
Gah. I sound like Mom, or the school nurse.
I'm no good at this.
Luckily, Cass is good enough for both of us. "I missed you, Gwen. It's good to see you, Gwen. I dreamed about you, Gwen. Yeah, haven't gotten around to the gloves. More important things to focus on. Want me to tell you what they are?
The quarterback? Wow. My mom wouldn't let me stand in the same checkout line as a high school senior. She's so lame.— Kristin Hannah
She's not lame.
She thinks eighteen year old boys are dangerous. She calls them penises with hands and feet. Tell me that isn't lame.
Even as my family fell apart and things were at their most hopeless, my dad and I found a lot of happiness in the wilderness - sleeping on the cold gravel and killing as many things as we could get our hands on. Even as my mom got progressively more crazy, we found a happiness, in flashes.— Leigh Newman
Coming up in the Bay Area and being African American in a city that has a history of complex issues of violent crime, interaction with the police is always intense. That's something you have to learn. My mom taught me at a young age that if ever a cop stops you, you put your hands up and freeze - don't move.— Ryan Coogler
I'm in a no-win situation. If I have my kids in the show, I'm exploiting them. If I don't, people will think I'm not a hands-on mom.— Denise Richards
I'm Kan, the Louis Vouitton don / Bought my mom purse, now she Louis Vuitton mom / I didn't play the hand I was dealt I changed my cards / I prayed to the skies and I changed my stars / I went to the malls and I balled too hard / Oh My God is that a Black card / I turned around and replied why yes, but I prefer the term African American Express— Kanye West
I'm half of my father. Half of my hero. And I am half of my mother. Half soft sighs and half sharp edges. And if they can be Carmindor and Amara--then somewhere in my blood and bones I can be too. I'm the lost princess. I'm the villain of my story, and the hero. Part of my mom and part of my dad. I am a fact of the universe. The Possible and the Impossible. I am not no one. I am my parents' daughter, and then I realize--I realize that in this universe they're alive too. They're alive through me. Fashioning my hands into a pistol, I point it at the ceiling, lifting my chin, raising my eyes against the blinding stage lights, and I ignite the stars.— Ashley Poston
Finally, Grom shakes his head. "She's a Half-Breed, Galen."— Anna Banks
Mom's head snaps toward him. "She's my daughter," she says slowly. She pulls herself from his lap and stands over him, hands on hips. Oh, he's in serious shiznit now. And I can't help but feel elated about it."Are you saying my daughter's not good enough for your brother?"
Yeah, Grom, are you? Huh, huh are you?
Grom sighs, the triviality in his expression softening into something else. "Nalia, love-"
"Don't you 'Nalia, love' me." Mom crosses her arms
I want you to know that I appreciate you trusting me with this, and understand that it doesn't change a goddamn thing between us. But it kills me that you would rather your mom hate you for the rest of her life than tell her the truth." Leo ran his strong hands up and down God's thighs. God put his large palm on that gorgeous face and placed his forehead gently against Leo's. "Thank you, sweetheart, but I'm okay with this. This is the hand life dealt me. But now I have you, right." God said it more as a statement of fact. "Yes. You have me for as long as you want me." Day held him back. God— A.E. Via
I followed him down the hall and into his room. He closed the door and tossed my dirty clothes into his hamper. "Don't do that! I'll take them home and wash them," I tried to grab for them but Caeden grabbed my hands instead.— Micalea Smeltzer
"It's fine," he kissed the side of my mouth while I squirmed in his grasp.
"Caeden, your mom doesn't need to clean my dirty clothes."
"It's not a problem. Besides," he said huskily in my ear, "my mom doesn't do my laundry. I do my own, just like a big boy."
I laughed.
"And you know what else?" his lips brushed my ear.
"What?"
"I even make my own bed.
Oh, no! I promise it's not human," Mom bats her hands in the air in an effort to wrangle them back into their seats. "It's newborn calf."— Addison Moore
"Oh, Hon, we don't do baby legs neither.
I know first-hand the challenges that come with being an on-the-go mom, and I am constantly looking for great products that fit into my busy schedule. I've tried every goop and elixir known to man.— Eva LaRue
