A Quote by Mary Howitt

Then take me on your knee, mother; And listen, mother of mine. A hundred fairies danced last night, And the harpers they were nine. — © Mary Howitt
Then take me on your knee, mother; And listen, mother of mine. A hundred fairies danced last night, And the harpers they were nine.
If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
The technology involved in making anything invisible is so infinitely complex that nine hundred and ninety-nine billion, nine hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a trillion it is much simpler and more effective just to take the thing away and do without it.
If I were dammed of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, mother o' mine o mother o' mine.
If people take a knee, and the National Football League players want to take a knee, they should take a knee at night, every night, and thank God in Heaven Donald J. Trump is president of the United States.
“ It’ s a lot to process,” she said. “ What Sebastian said, what happened last night, everything. I need to sleep, but I’ m too keyed up. When I was young and I couldn’ t sleep, my mother used to read to me to relax me.” “ A nd I remind you of your mother now? I have got to look into a manlier cologne
Tereza's mother never stopped reminding her that being a mother meant sacrificing everything. Her words had the ring of truth, backed as they were by the experience of a woman who had lost everything because of her child. Tereza would listen and believe that being a mother was the highest value in life and that being a mother was a great sacrifice. If a mother was Sacrifice personified, then a daughter was Guilt, with no possibility of redress.
When I was eight, nine years of age, my mother bought me a pair of green trousers - corduroy green trousers. I didn't like green, and I basically buried them underground. And my mother kept asking me, 'Where are your trousers?' I said, 'Oh, I don't know.' And from then on I stopped wearing green.
My father died at 42, of a heart attack. My mother was 32 then. She never wanted to be a victim. And that really resonated as a nine-year-old child. And one of the most revealing things was, very soon after my father died - he was in real estate and he owned some modest buildings - they came to my mother, the men that worked for him, and they said, "You don't have to worry. We will run the business and we will take care of you." And my mother said, "No, you won't. You will teach me how to run the business and I will take care of it and my children."
When my daughter went to school, her last name was mine. The school insisted that her father's name be added to hers, not her mother's. The fact that the mother kept her in her womb for nine months is forgotten. Women don't have an identity. She has her father's name today and will have her husband's tomorrow.
So many people ask, 'How could you forgive your mother for the way you were raised?' It's really not forgiveness, in my opinion. It's acceptance. She's never going to be the sort of mother who wants to take care of me.
A good friend of mine was Lucy Ball. Her mother and my mother were best friends.
Last night I danced with a stranger, but she just reminded me you were the one.
Of course you don't believe in fairies. You're fifteen. You think I believed in fairies at fifteen? Took me until I was at least a hundred and forty. Hundred and fifty, maybe. Anyway, he wasn't a fairy. He was a librarian. All right?
I slept with my mother until I was nine years old. It was OK for the first few years, and then I don't know what happened. I just couldn't do it anymore. I mean, sleeping with the same woman, night after night. Boring!
The thing that I think a lot of guys need to know how to do is not take your mother's advice about honesty being the best policy. Listen to your cool, drunk uncle who tells you to lie. Those are the relationships that last.
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