A Quote by Mary Oliver

My parents didn't care very much what I did, and that was probably a blessing. — © Mary Oliver
My parents didn't care very much what I did, and that was probably a blessing.
Both my parents, grandmother and all close relatives who met Diana liked her very much, and my parents and grandmother never objected to our relationship. They were very much happy for us to make a decision ourselves and made it clear they would support it 100 per cent. We both had their blessing.
Love doesn't care how much money you have. It doesn't care who your parents are. It doesn't care if you're gay, straight, or transgender.
'Game of Thrones' cares about children. Children are heirs. There's no hemming and hawing about how they're desensitized to violence or they cost too much to send to college. They're a blessing - in many ways the only blessing - and even the evil ones have parents who love them.
My parents have tried not to intrude. They kind of stayed apart from my gymnastics but are very supportive, and that's very helpful as a gymnast to not have your parents say, 'Did you do this today?' and just be very on top of you.
I had a very happy childhood and very loving parents. We didn't have much money and I suppose therefore you felt that anything you did you'd have to do on your own, so it does make you quite motivated.
You can care very much about someone without being capable of becoming their primary caregiver in the event of their parents' untimely death.
I've tried really hard to care about things that were very different from my parents. I was curious if I could care about [money] on some fundamental level, and I couldn't. That wasn't the metric of success I wanted in my life. I've talked about this to my friends who are doctors and whose parents are doctors, or who are lawyers and their parents are lawyers. It's a funny thing to realize I feel called to this work both as a daughter and also as someone who believes I have contributions to make.
I was given a chance to try announcing, and it was a job that, in the end, I did not care for very much.
My dad was a very unconventional Asian American man. He was very much not quiet, not shy, not passive. If he had to fart, he'd do it in the library. He did not care. He was like, 'I don't know these people. I'm uncomfortable, and I need to let it go.'
I was quietly rebellious. My parents thought I was very good but secretly I did things like saying I was staying in one place and going somewhere else instead. My older sister was openly rebellious and would tell my parents where to go, but I never did that.
A young woman is dead. I don’t care. You probably don’t care. The police don’t care. The papers don’t care. The punks for the most part don’t care. The only people that care are (I suppose) her parents and (I’m almost certain) the boy accused of murdering her.
My wife and I both grew up with parents who were very young. Her mom was, I think, 17 or 18 when she was born; my mom was 15 when I was born. So, as we got older, we started thinking a lot about that - about the time that those people missed because we came along when we did and because they devoted so much of their lives to taking care of us.
My parents did a great job of raising me and my brother. Very supportive parents.
I grew up in a family with three siblings. My parents were always very supportive and encouraging. It was important for them that we have meaningful and satisfying professions, but they didn't care as much about success and achievement.
'Dad, Dad, I'm getting married.' 'Sh-sh, don't say it. Nothing, nothing. Don't do anything.' So he honestly - 'cause he was taught don't celebrate - they'll take it away from you. And his parents were taught that, and his parents and parents' parents. Because if you did celebrate, and you were visible, it could be very, very dangerous.
Kids are very sensitive to the value system of their parents, and I just felt my parents were attaching too much importance, too much meaning, to things.
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