A Quote by Nina Turner

I was 22 when my mother died; my baby sister was 12. We had nothing. We had each other, but we had nothing. — © Nina Turner
I was 22 when my mother died; my baby sister was 12. We had nothing. We had each other, but we had nothing.
Mum and Dad died of heart problems, my grandparents died of it, my sister has had mini strokes, my brother has had a heart attack - it's genetic; there's nothing I can do.
I was a very lame skinhead. I had to be in by 8:30 P. M., so I used to pretend that I had a baby sister I had to go home and baby-sit.
Bing Crosby and I weren't the types to go around kissing each other. We always had a light jab for each other. One of our stock lines used to be "There's nothing I wouldn't do for Bing, and there's nothing he wouldn't do for me." And that's the way we go through life - doing nothing for each other!
When my mother died when I was 15, it felt like the end of my dreams of becoming a dancer - I had a sister and a brother and we had to pull together to look after the house and my father.
My TV show had been cancelled; nothing else had gone anywhere; some alliances I had made petered out and nothing came of them and I was looking at a long, long year ahead of me in which there was no work on the horizon, the phone wasn't ringing. I had two kids, one of them a brand-new baby, and I didn't know if I would be able to keep my house.
I was raised primarily by women. I had a mother who almost killed herself to survive, I had a sister who was eight years older who was like a second mother, and my mother had two sisters. In the environment I grew up in, I heard a lot of female perspectives.
I'd had a racist experience as a child at age 10, where people had thrown rocks at me and bottles. I didn't understand. And all it was, was because of the color of my skin, nothing I had done, nothing I had said.
My childhood was kind of complicated. I have an older sister, but my father, my mother's husband, died when I was four years old. So I only had my mum and sister, really.
My mum had 14 pregnancies - but only four of us survived. We had a little sister born for a few days and she died. There had to be a funeral.
My mother died when I was 12, and right after, my dad died in a car crash. I was 15 and had no family. The court sent me to live with my uncle and aunt in Missouri.
I met my wife, I had no money, I had nothing, and I started my family without really, my career was nowhere, but I had these other businesses, I had these things I was doing to be able to afford a small home.
If you look at champions, they came from nothing. That's where they get their drive and determination and hunger. They know they have no other option to succeed, because they had nothing. I had everything.
I always had the sense that nothing was never good enough - striving for perfection. My mother and I had a sort of typical mother-daughter relationship.
My peak? Would I even have one? I hardly had had anything you could call a life. A few ripples, some rises and falls. But that's it. Almost nothing. Nothing born of nothing. I'd loved and been loved, but I had nothing to show. It was a singularly plain, featureless landscape. I felt like I was in a video game. A surrogate Pacman, crunching blindly through a labyrinth of dotted lines. The only certainty was my death.
I always went to my sister, because she was older and had the care of me after my mother died.
I think of the chimp, the one with the talking hands. In the course of the experiment, that chimp had a baby. Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign her newborn. Baby, drink milk. Baby, play ball. And when the baby died, the mother stood over the body, her wrinkled hands moving with animal grace, forming again and again the words: Baby, come hug, Baby come hug, fluent now in the language of grief.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!