A Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Grim sighed heavily. "I swear I'm getting a migraine." "My mom suffers from those a lot, too." "Being around you, I imagine she does. — © Sherrilyn Kenyon
Grim sighed heavily. "I swear I'm getting a migraine." "My mom suffers from those a lot, too." "Being around you, I imagine she does.
My mother stopped working when she had my brother. She was a full time mom until I started getting heavily into ice skating lessons, and it got to the point where they really needed my mom to earn an income.
My mom is an elementary school music teacher, a pianist, and a singer, and my dad plays guitar - he's a huge Bruce Springsteen fan. My mom does musical theater, too. All of those influences were around.
I swear a lot; I always have. So does my husband. Our son, surprisingly, does not swear much at all.
The Grim Reaper, Gloria corrected herself - if anyone deserved capital letters it was surely Death. Gloria would rather like to be the Grim Reaper. She wouldn't necessarily be grim, she suspected she would be quite cheerful (Come along now, don't make such a fuss).
This is so cool," I said loudly as Dad walked away. "Have you met the tattoo artist? Is he hot?" "He's a she," Mom said. "Is she hot? Cause I'm still young, you know. My sexual identity isnt fully formed." "Your father can't hear you anymore, Maya." Mom sighed.
My mom is two people to me. She's my mom number one, and then she's this lady most comedians know as being a legendary owner of a nightclub that's responsible for starting a lot of heavy careers.
To my mom, I don't know how to describe my mom. She is the most wonderful person in my life. She gave me love. She took me to the ballpark when I was just a little boy running around, hanging around.
He sighed heavily. "Girls are mean. At least faeries simply kill you if they don't want you around." He put a hand on the wall, leaning against it and tapping his foot impatiently.
My mom is very structured. She gets up, she does her prayers, and she eats her oatmeal with blueberries and Greek yogurt, and she has her prayer list, and she doesn't worry too much about things.
He put his arms around her. “Well, in my defense, then, whatever I did seemed to work, didn't it?” She sighed. “I suppose.” “You suppose?” “What do you want? A medal?” “For starters. A trophy would be nice, too.” She smiled. “What do you think you're holding right now?
Amy, listen to me. What I do. The choices I make. They're mine. Only mine. The consequences of those decisions—mine. "Mine," he repeated when she sighed heavily. "No one else's." Silence. Only the warm wetness of her tears dampening his shirt. It broke his heart.
My mom's favorite song ever is 'Imagine' because it came out around when she arrived in England.
My mom is one of my role models in a complicated way. I learned from her how to be a good mom. She was one of those natural moms who really took to it. Her chosen profession was teaching. She loves kids. But she was extremely frustrated and unhappy because for much of my life she was a stay-at-home mom.
When I was younger, I used to pray that I would die before my mom. That's just how much my mom meant to me. I couldn't imagine being in this world without her. But then seeing cancer - seeing what it can do to somebody - as strong and as tough as she was, there was nothing she could do. Cancer is a dirty, dirty deal.
I am a nice human, but I've also got Italian in my family. My mom's side is Italian and my mom is a very scary human being. I get a lot of that intensity and snap straight into it from her. She's legit terrifying. Lovely girl. Lovely mother but when she gets angry, she's absolutely terrifying. She's a damn monster.
My mom was born in the 70s, but grew up in the 90s, seeing all types of things. Because of her PTSD, she sheltered us from all of it as best as she could. There was a lot going on around us that we didn't even know because my mom kept us in a bubble.
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