A Quote by Brigitte Nielsen

When my dad died, it was as if my mum died, too. — © Brigitte Nielsen
When my dad died, it was as if my mum died, too.
My dad died, and my grandfather died, and my great-grandfather died. And the guy before him, I don't know. Probably died.
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 always thought I would die of cancer because my mom and my dad both died of cancer. My dad died of osteocancer, and my mom died of colon cancer.
My mum and dad never went abroad for a holiday. My dad was overseas in the war but never thought about going anywhere like the Mediterranean after that, so my mum died without ever having been on a plane or abroad.
THE DEATH OF LEOPOLD GURSKY Leopold Gursky started dying on August 18, 1920. He died learning to walk. He died standing at the blackboard. And once, also, carrying a heavy tray. He died practicing a new way to sign his name. Opening a window. Washing his genitals in the bath. He died alone, because he was too embarrassed to phone anyone. Or he died thinking about Alma. Or when he chose not to.
On Good Friday Jesus died But rose again at Eastertide.....Lord, teach us to understand that your Son died to save us not from suffering but from ourselves, not from injustice...but from being unjust. He died that we might live - but live as he lives, by dying as he died who died to himself.
I don't believe in regretting - one should try to move on. My mum was good at that. She was deeply in love with my father, and he died when I was nine. She remarried, and her second husband died, too. I saw the grieving process she went through. My mother had this way of moving on. It was a fine trait.
My grandfather and my uncle both died from colorectal cancer, my dad almost died from it and I have the gene for it.
I remember that, before John Lennon died, everyone was saying that Rolling Stone couldn't do good reporting anymore. But when he died, they wrote this amazing issue, as they should have about Lennon. They did that when Elvis died, too.
There was a day when I died; died to self, my opinions, preferences, tastes and will; died to the world, its approval or censure; died to the approval or blame even of my brethren or friends; and since then I have studied only to show myself approved unto God.
When my dad died, I was eight. Becky was seven. My mum had cancer, the first of two bouts that she's fought and beaten.
Because I didn't have a Mum - she died when I was a baby - my Dad was told by people in authority that it was best for me to go to a convent school.
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.
Only look to Jesus. He died for you, died in your place, died under the frowns of heaven, that we might die under its smile.
Mum and Dad met campaigning on the Spanish civil war. Both were active peace campaigners. They died in 1986 and '87.
My dad had died when I was four, so after my mum passed away, it was her parents - my amazing Nanna and Grandad - who took me in.
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