A Quote by Margaret Drabble

I actually remember feeling delight, at two o'clock in the morning, when the baby woke for his feed, because I so longed to have another look at him. — © Margaret Drabble
I actually remember feeling delight, at two o'clock in the morning, when the baby woke for his feed, because I so longed to have another look at him.
I had a dream this morning too, and you were in it," he said. "I don't remember what it was about, exactly, but when I woke up I looked at the clock and it was exactly six thirty-two." I felt an eerie tingle all down my back and froze with my spoon halfway to my mouth. "Really?" He smirked and popped the cookie into his mouth. "No
I don't know how we're going to have this baby because I'm in my forties and I can't even remember my first son's name. But I'm going to have another baby because I'm feeling good.
A conscience is a troublesome thing at times. I woke up at 4 o'clock this morning and I spent the time feeling what a nothing I was, and wishing I was so very different. Then the morning's post brought me a letter from a friend, saying I was so this, so that - it made me really cry, I was so grateful.
Actually, when I was young, I believe I met Nicolas Cage. I think I was probably eight, and I remember seeing him at somebody's house - it was an event and he happened to be there. People would ask me if I was his son, because I looked like him at that point, so I do remember feeling some connection and just wanting to say, like, 'Papa!'
[I remember going] to a hotel gym at six o'clock in the morning, and the television was on, and it's some drama in which two men have clearly kidnapped a woman. They're interrogating her, and they put a plastic bag over her head. They're suffocating her, and I'm thinking, It's six o'clock in the morning! Why does anybody need to see this? How can I find the off switch?
By morning, she was raw and sore, and knew walking would be an effort. By morning, she could barely remember what it had been like to not know his body, not to have felt him inside her and held him in her arms and absorbed the power of his thrusts as he came. By morning, she was his.
I don't know how many times I've went to bed at five, six o'clock in the morning and woke up at 10, running four miles because I wanted to beat GSP that bad.
Like everyone else, I was at least peripherally involved in the antiwar movement. You woke up every morning feeling tormented about what was going on in Vietnam. It seemed to a lot of us like a catastrophe from the very beginning, inflicting immense and needless suffering on not only the American soldiers but on a lot of innocent peasants who were caught in a Cold War proxy battle - two million Vietnamese died during those years, and you woke up every morning knowing that that was going on.
I remember the day before my dad died, I was in a hospital room with him, and he had lived a long life. He was 94, and I helped him get up, and there were two windows separated by the partition. I took him to the first window, and he kind of found his way to the second window, and on the way there was a mirror, and he looked into it, and I saw through the corner of my eye, I remember the look on his face. What came over his face was "So I'm here. I've crossed that bridge."
I couldn't help shaking my head as I looked at him. Ian slept like a baby every morning - well, a baby who continually kept one hand down his pants.
Oh, yeah, I see the world differently now. Actually, when I first had the baby, I was breast-feeding him for two years straight. So we were together for two years of his life, every single day, all hours of the day. So I was two people, and I eventually morphed back into one
Oh, yeah, I see the world differently now. Actually, when I first had the baby, I was breast-feeding him for two years straight. So we were together for two years of his life, every single day, all hours of the day. So I was two people, and I eventually morphed back into one.
She hated him and loved him, longed for him and loathed him, and cursed herself for feeling anything at all
It doesn't matter how late I come home - it could be two o'clock, three o'clock in the morning - I have to take off my makeup.
I actually do mind having a photo taken because it's one o'clock in the morning and I'm off my face.
I remember asking my mom when I was 10 if I was adopted because I didn't look like my brothers and sisters. She said, 'Are you crazy? You think I am gonna go buy another mouth to feed?' So that settled that.
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