A Quote by Robert Indiana

'Hug' is my mother's word for affection. — © Robert Indiana
'Hug' is my mother's word for affection.
To the loved, a word of affection is a morsel; but to the love-starved, a word of affection can be a feast.
I only really ever hug my mother. Is this okay?” he asked. I laughed. “It’s hard to get a hug wrong.
Affection is one of the most neglected words in the English language, that people throw the word love around like confetti when they mean affection.
I hug my kids, staff, dogs; that is the way I show my affection. If people don't understand that, I can't help it.
The person who received maximum affection from mother, that person also sort of cultivated the potential showing affection to others.
Authentic men aren't afraid to show affection, release their feelings, hug their children, cry when they're sad, admit it when they're wrong, and ask for help when they need it.
If you're angry at a loved one, hug that person. And mean it. You may not want to hug - which is all the more reason to do so. It's hard to stay angry when someone shows they love you, and that's precisely what happens when we hug each other.
Children long to know that they are lovable. And there are ways that technology can help with that. But ultimately it's their relationships with their parents, their grandparents, their peers, and their teachers that help them to know that for sure. A child can learn the word "hug" and the letters h-u-g through a computer, but a computer can never give the child a hug.
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.
I think every human being, born from mother, and at least the next few years, you see, received immense affection from our mother. So the child's first experience in this lifetime at the beginning, I think that immense affection from other is in our blood. So therefore, the whole rest of life, other people show you smile, genuine sort of closeness feeling. You feel happy. Even animals also like that.
I never asked my mother where babies came from but I remember clearly the day she volunteered the information....my mother called me to set the table for dinner. She sat me down in the kitchen, and under the classic caveat of 'loving each other very, very much,' explained that when a man and a woman hug tightly, the man plants a seed in the woman. The seed grows into a baby. Then she sent me to the pantry to get placemats. As a direct result of this conversation, I wouldn't hug my father for two months.
Like all my family and class, I considered it a sign of weakness to show affection; to have been caught kissing my mother would have been a disgrace, and to have shown affection for my father would have been a disaster.
At the end, what I like is that it's the girl's decision to go back in the room. She needs a hug, she wants a hug, she asks for a hug and he gives it to her. For me, it's like an act of resistance to go there and to transgress the taboo and to do what started the whole thing in the beginning. It was supposedly a hug that started this whole drama between the character of Simon and the teacher.
The story of a mother's life: Trapped between a scream and a hug.
She liked that word: we. It sounded warm and open, like a hug.
She turned to Skulduggery and held out her arms. “Come here, you.” He tilted his head. “My hugs are for special occasions only.” “Hug me.” “I prefer the old tradition.” “Hug.” “Would a handshake do?” “Hug.” “A pat on the back?” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms round him. “Hug,” she said. He sighed, and his hands settled on her shoulders. The others were warm and their embraces strong – with Skulduggery the hug was cold, and there were areas on his jacket that gave way beneath her fingers, and she could feel the emptiness within. She didn’t mind.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!