When I was a teenager, I was so dumb my mamma knocked me off the porch with a broom. You wish you had so good a mamma.
If it wasn't for women, I wouldn't be here. I'm a mamma's boy at heart. I love my mom. I have the deepest, utmost respect for women.
I have discovered that our great favourite, Miss Austen, is my countrywoman...with whom mamma before her marriage was acquainted. Mamma says that she was then the prettiest, silliest, most affected, husband-hunting butterfly she ever remembers...
I was a mamma's boy. She had me at 15, so we were close enough in age where we could play basketball against each other. We used to play one-on-one and race in the yard all the time.
You really want to know what being an X-Man feels like? Just be a smart bookish boy of color in a contemporary U.S. ghetto. Mamma mia! Like having bat wings or a pair of tentacles growing out of your chest.
Remember, there is no situation so completely hopeless that something constructive cannot be done about it. When faced with a minus, ask yourself what you can do to make it a plus. A person practicing this attitude will extract undreamed-of outcomes from the most unpromising situations. Realize that there are no hopeless situations; there are only people who take hopeless attitudes.
I am not handsome or sexy. Of course, it's not like I am hopeless.
I am afraid of falling into hopeless despair, over my wasted life, and I am still not sure how it happened.
Realize that there are not hopeless situations; there are only people who take hopeless attitudes.
There are no hopeless situations; there are only men who have grown hopeless about them.
Hopeless causes are the only ones worth fighting for. The fight for the taxpayer is the most hopeless of them all.
When I was a boy I used to do what my father wanted. Now I have to do what my boy wants. My problem is: When am I going to do what I want?
I'm a hopeless mother; a hopeless wife; I have to try harder. I'm just a pathetic case history, really.
A lot of people thought 'Funcrusher' was super dark and hopeless, and I don't think it was hopeless in any way.
I am a hopeless romantic who falls in lust and gets in trouble. I love my work and am very productive, yet I always find time to play.
Who will cry for the little boy, lost and all alone?
Who will cry for the little boy, abandoned without his own?
Who will cry for the little boy? He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy? He never had for keeps.
Who will cry for the little boy? He walked the burning sand.
Who will cry for the little boy? The boy inside the man.
Who will cry for the little boy? Who knows well hurt and pain.
Who will cry for the little boy? He died and died again.
Who will cry for the little boy? A good boy he tried to be.
Who will cry for the little boy, who cries inside of me?