A Quote by Miranda Kerr

To wake up to the sound of my son saying 'Mama, mama!' It's the best sound ever. — © Miranda Kerr
To wake up to the sound of my son saying 'Mama, mama!' It's the best sound ever.
To the newcomer to the south, hearing that a coworker plans a weekend visit to 'mama and them's' (the correct plural possessive, don'tchaknow), might make him think that mama has been left alone either throught an act of scoundreldom involving the town's resident hoochie-mama (an altogether different kind of mama) or Daddy's untimely demise.
My mama never wore a pair of pants when I was growing up, and now that's all she wears. It was so funny for me when I first started seeing Mama wear pants. It was like it wasn't Mama. Now I've bought her many a pantsuit because she just lives in them.
I've got three women in my life: my mama, ex baby mama and my new baby mama.
I'm obsessed with hockey and my son's a big player. I spend a lot of time driving to the ice rink and I'm a huge Los Angeles Kings fan. So, yeah, I'm a hockey mama - a cool hockey mama.
Everyone has a crazy old lady in their family like 'Mama.' No one ever comes up to me and says 'Mama' is just like them, so no one is ever offended by her. Even young people like to laugh at her. I think she helps kids appreciate their own grandmothers more.
Even as a dope fiend mama. You always was a black queen mama.
I didn't have a mother; I had a mama. I measure other women by the stature of my mama.
Mama always told me not to look into the sights of the sun. Oh, but mama, that's where the fun is.
Mama, Mama, help me get home I'm out in the woods, I am out on my own. I found me a werewolf, a nasty old mutt It showed me its teeth and went straight for my gut. Mama, Mama, help me get home I'm out in the woods, I am out on my own. I was stopped by a vampire, a rotting old wreck It showed me its teeth and went straight for my neck. Mama, Mama, put me to bed I won't make it home, I'm already half-dead. I met an Invalid, and fell for his art He showed me his smile, and went straight for my heart. -From "A Child's Walk Home," Nursery Rhymes and Folk Tales
I still hear you humming, Mama. The colour of your song calls me home. The colour of your words saying, Let her be. She got a right to be different. She gonna stumble on herself one of these days. Just let the child be. And I be, Mama.
You can't do more mama than Italian Jewish mama.
Papa loved Mama, Mama loved men, Mama's in the graveyard, Papa's in the pen.
When I was a baby, my mama told me son, always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns. But I shot a man in Reno.
I think that the language that we use is a ritual, that my [maternal] grandmother was called "Big Mama" is a ritual, that my daughter calls my father "Baba" and my mother "Mama" is a ritual. There are common African-American rituals that are a part of my experience. If I ever get married some day I would like to jump the broom.
I left Texas A&M because my school called me. Mama called, and when Mama calls, then you just have to come running.
Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners... Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking... and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths...and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you.
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