A Quote by Willie Nelson

My granddaddy died when I was about 6 years old, I think. And my grandmother took a job cooking in the school lunchroom. So she did great. She made $18 a week. — © Willie Nelson
My granddaddy died when I was about 6 years old, I think. And my grandmother took a job cooking in the school lunchroom. So she did great. She made $18 a week.
We started the family Bible after slavery was abolished. My great-grandmother remembered the Bible being started, which meant that she was a slave as a young girl. When she died, the Bible was at least 105 years old, so she must have been nearly 115 years old. Her daughter, my grandmother, died at 97, and her husband at 98.
I remember the words of my grandmother who died at 102. I remember my great mother, Grand Brika, who died at the age of 106. They talked to us all the time. And my grandmother even lied to me. She said there was royalty. She said that my great-great-great grandfather was the king of the outer Thembu.
My grandmother was probably the first person who I thought was beautiful. She was incredibly stylish, she had big hair, big cars. I was probably 3 years old, but she was like a cartoon character. She'd swoop into our lives with presents and boxes, and she always smelled great and looked great.
She died when I was 16 and I just think no history books, nothing is ever going to talk about my grandmother. She was kind of invisible. She couldn't speak English so didn't have many friends. I think of her any time I think of the word 'sacrifice.'
My grandmother lived to be 100 years old. Her grandmother was a slave, yet she was a college graduate in the Spellman class of 1917. She taught art for 50 years and she saved her Social Security checks for her children's education.
You think Bernadette Maguire killed him?” “Uh… no. She’s, like I said, she’s old.” “Old people can kill people too.” “I know, but…” “She could be a ninja.” “She’s not a ninja, for God’s sake. She’s somebody’s great grandmother.” “I want you to think carefully about this, Kenny. Have you ever seen her with a sword?” “What?” “How about throwing stars?” “This is ridiculous.” “Have you ever seen her dressed up as a ninja? That would have been my ?rst clue.” The girl sucked in her cheeks so she wouldn't laugh out loud.
My mom got pregnant when she was 15. She dropped out of high school. She died in her forties, but before she died, she went back and finished high school.
My maternal grandmother - she was a compulsive reader. She had only been through five grades of elementary school, but she was a member of the municipal library, and she brought home two or three books a week for me. They could be dime novels or Balzac.
I was raised by my grandmother. She instilled everything into me. She taught me right from wrong from day one. I remembered everyday, being 4 or 5 years old, and walking to school, she would be like, Raise your right hand and stay on the right side of the street and make sure you do the right thing in school.
If I see a now-28-year-old woman coming up to me, she's probably thinking of 'Juno' because she watched it with her parents when she was 18 years old.
My mother, she smiles when I come around now. My daughter's eatin' decent meals and she's in private school. She's 4 years old. She started school. It's a beautiful thing.
One thing I did have under my belt was, my mother lost her mother when she was 11. She mourned her mother her whole life and made my grandmother seem present even though I never met her. I couldn't imagine how my mom could go on but she did, she took care of us, she worked two jobs and had four children. She was such a good example of how to conduct oneself in a time of grief. When I lost my husband, I tried to model myself as much as I could on her.
I had an emerald ring that my mother gave me four or five years before she died. She wore it always, I wore it always, and I have given it to my daughter, and she wears it always. This ring belonged originally to my great, great grandfather. It's well over 150 years old.
The sum total of what I learned about African American culture in school was Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, and the Underground Railroad. This was more than my mom knew; she didn't even see a black person in real life until she was 18 years old.
Well, when Eleanor Roosevelt's mother dies, she goes to live with her Grandmother Hall. And her Grandmother Hall is in mourning. She's in widow's weeds. She's in her 50s, but appears very old. And she's exhausted from raising rather out-of-control children. Her favorite daughter, Anna, has died (Eleanor's mother), and she has living at home two other sons, Vallie and Eddie. And they are incredible sportsmen, incredible drinkers, out-of-control alcoholics.
My grandmother was an artist and did enameling. She had a little apartment, and in her tiny little kitchen, she had a kiln. We used to sit there when I was six years old and she'd let me choose the colors and bake the pieces and create a necklace, or a ring, or a little piece of art.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!