A Quote by Hattie McDaniel

When I was little, my mother taught me how to use a fork and knife. The trouble is that Mother forget to teach me how to stop using them! — © Hattie McDaniel
When I was little, my mother taught me how to use a fork and knife. The trouble is that Mother forget to teach me how to stop using them!
I would ask my mother to show me how to walk - and she did show me. That's why I think it's funny when people say, 'Did so-and-so teach you how to walk?' And I always say, 'You must be talking about my mother, because it was my mother who taught me how to walk.'
I don't just work with these kids to make them good tumblers or good dancers. I'm working with them to make them good citizens - to become taxpayers, not tax-eaters. I teach them to say please and thank you. I show them how to use a knife and fork and how to fold a napkin.
Until Ranveer was born in August 2005, three years into our marriage, I was working in Hindi or South Indian films. After marriage, I began learning how to run a house. My mother wanted to teach me the basics, but I was never home. So when my mother-in-law taught me chores, it was hard to adjust.
As a single mother of four, my mother taught me that you always want to show up strong for the moments that really matter with family, friends, and community. I now recognize how her strength helped shape the person I am today and the mother that I have become.
What was so extraordinary to me about going through this box of my mother's letters and diaries was meeting my mother not as my mother, but as a real person. And what breaks my heart is that I had no idea how self-aware she was and how protective of me she was.
I was not yet three years old when my mother determined to send one of my elder sisters to learn to read at a school for girls we call the Amigas. Affection, and mischief, caused me to follow her, and when I observed how she was being taught her lessons I was so inflamed with the desire to know how to read, that deceiving - for so I knew it to be - the mistress, I told her that my mother had meant for me to have lessons too. ... I learned so quickly that before my mother knew of it I could already read.
I'll teach you how to defend yourself, how to maim a man. We can use Po as a model.' 'Wonderful,' Po said. 'It's quite boring really, the way you beat me to death with your hands and feet, Katsa. It'll be refreshing to have you come at me with a knife.
It took me a little while to remember how to use a fork. You know, we don't use forks in the penitentiary. You get a spoon.
Kids today and for the last 20 years have held the fork and knife in unbelievable ways. They hold the fork with a fist and the knife like a saw and they shovel it in. It doesn't matter to them which way they hold their knife and fork. They eat every which way. I'm amazed they get food into their mouths at all.
Sometimes people let the same problem make them miserable for years when they could just say, "So what." "My mother didn't love me." So what. "My husband won't ball me. So what. "I'm a success but I'm still alone." So what. I don't know how I made it through all the years before I learned how to do that trick. It took a long time for me to learn it, but once you do, you never forget.
Above all, there is Mother. She taught me how to love, how to have respect for other people.
My Father taught me how to be a man – and not by instilling in me a sense of machismo or an agenda of dominance. He taught me that a real man doesn’t take, he gives; he doesn’t use force, he uses logic; doesn’t play the role of trouble-maker, but rather, trouble-shooter; and most importantly, a real man is defined by what’s in his heart, not his pants.
My childhood was all about going to church, singing in church. And later on, after I got a little older, my mother taught me how to do poems for Easter and Mother's Day, recitals and so on. I got attached to that, so as I got older and older, I began to recite poetry.
My parents, they gave me everything. They taught me how to work hard. They taught me how to be a good Catholic. They taught me how to love people, how to respect people, but how to stand my ground, as well.
I've always been very open about how my mother taught me to cook and how I'm delighted to share my family's recipes.
My mother taught me how to write.
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