A Quote by Darryl Worley

Brother killing brother, father slaying son. From the looks of this old graveyard, hell nobody really won. — © Darryl Worley
Brother killing brother, father slaying son. From the looks of this old graveyard, hell nobody really won.
Afghans excel at fighting Afghans. This is what Afghans do, even when they are not being invaded by foreign powers. They fight each other, tribe against tribe, brother against brother, half-brother against half-brother, cousin against cousin, uncle against nephew, father against son.
Brother raises a hand against brother and son against father (how terrible!) and the father also against son. And moreover it is a continuity-matter, for if the father did not strike the son, they would not be alike. It is done to perpetuate similarity. Oh, Henderson, man cannot keep still under the blows.... A hit B? B hit C?--we have not enough alphabet to cover the condition. A brave man will try to make the evil stop with him. He shall keep the blow. No man shall get it from him, and that is a sublime ambition.
I lost my brother in a car wreck when I was 14 years old. When I decided I wanted to be a country singer, my dad always told me, 'Son, you should write a song about your brother.'
He was brother to a liar and brother to an angel, son of a dream and son of a dreamer.
Niepokalanow is a home like Nazareth. The Father is God the Father, the mother and mistress of the home is the Immaculata, the firstborn son and our brother is Jesus in the most Holy Sacrament of the altar. All the younger brothers try to imitate the elder Brother in love and honor towards God and the Immaculata, our common parents, and from the Immaculata they try to love the divine elder Brother, the ideal of sanctity who deigned to come down from heaven to be incarnated in her and to live with us in the tabernacle.
I'm the only Red in our family! You know my father, my brother, my brother-in-law, my 14-year-old niece and two of my uncles are all City season ticket holders. So I'm gonna say 5-0 to United!
The death of distance. There is hardly any middle class family in India who doesn't have a son, a daughter, a son-in-law, a brother, a brother-in-law in the United States. That is a very powerful new bond.
Emil Nava brother is Jake Nava, who did Beyonce's Crazy In Love and stuff. He's always lived in his brother's shadow, and this is the first time that he's just killing sh*t. I'm really just happy that he's on top and really doing well.
You fight the most with your brother. The first fight you're going to get into is with your brother. The first fight you lose is going to be with your brother. But nobody else better try to fight your brother. Only you can fight your brother without it being a problem.
Being a son, brother, uncle and brother-in-law is all I care about.
What always strikes me in the story of Cain and Abel is how often the word "brother" is used. Cain killed his "brother." God says it was "the blood of your brother." The killing was done to another human being, a child of God like you, breaking that sacred bond of common humanity.
How strange it is that Socrates, after having made the children common, should hinder lovers from carnal intercourse only, but should permit love and familiarities between father and son or between brother and brother, than which nothing can be more unseemly, since even without them love of this sort is improper. How strange, too, to forbid intercourse for no other reason than the violence of the pleasure, as though the relationship of father and son or of brothers with one another made no difference.
I'm so much more than just Angelina [Jolie's] brother. I'm also Jon Voight's son and Billy Bob Thorton's brother-in-law.
Ronan Lynch lived with every sort of secret. His first secret was himself. He was brother to a liar and brother to an angel, son of a dream and son of a dreamer. He was a warring star full of endless possibilities, but in the end, as he dreamt in the backseat on the way to the Barns that night, he created only this.
My family background really only consists of my mother. She was a widow. My father died quite young; he must have been thirty-one. Then there was my twin brother and my sister. We had two aunts as well, my father's sisters. But the immediate family consisted of my mother, my brother, my sister, and me.
My brother Billy was the joke teller. My brother Jim had a really sharp, cutting wit. And the teller of long stories, that was my brother Ed. As a child, I just absorbed everything they said, and I was always in competition for the laughs.
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