Top 1200 Father And Brother Quotes & Sayings

A father's a treasure; a brother's a comfort; a friend is both.

My father was murdered when I was 12 years old. It was just me and my mother and my brother at the time. My brother was a little bit older than me and he left, so it was just me and my mom for a bit in Baltimore.

I was myself brought up with my brother, whose name was Matthias, for he was my own brother, by both father and mother; and I made mighty proficiency in the improvements of my learning, and appeared to have both a great memory and understanding.

My father wants me to be like my brother, but I can't be.

My other brother, the Lord Lucas, who was heir to my father's estate, and as it were the father to take care of us all, is not less valiant than they were, although his skill in the discipline of war was not so much, not being bred therein.

Brother killing brother, father slaying son. From the looks of this old graveyard, hell nobody really won.

But as my brother was doing his research for a book about my father, it became his opinion that the most influential anti-semitism my father encountered when he was growing up was from Jews, because his relatives were German Jews, and doctors.

Brother raises a hand against brother and son against father (how terrible!) and the father also against son. And moreover it is a continuity-matter, for if the father did not strike the son, they would not be alike. It is done to perpetuate similarity. Oh, Henderson, man cannot keep still under the blows.... A hit B? B hit C?--we have not enough alphabet to cover the condition. A brave man will try to make the evil stop with him. He shall keep the blow. No man shall get it from him, and that is a sublime ambition.

As was shown in 'Soorma,' for me, my father and brother have been my heroes.

My grandad was a miner. My father, brother, and uncles all work in industry.

My main teachers were my father and my mother and my brother.

My brother was a left-hander. When I was young, my father would say take your brother's gloves and pads and play, so I picked up the bat left-handed.

Tell me, enigmatical man, whom do you love best, your father, Your mother, your sister, or your brother? I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother. Your friends? Now you use a word whose meaning I have never known. Your country? I do not know in what latitude it lies. Beauty? I could indeed love her, Goddess and Immortal. Gold? I hate it as you hate God. Then, what do you love, extraordinary stranger? I love the clouds the clouds that pass up there Up there the wonderful clouds!

Before I was nine I had learned the basic canon of Arab life. It was me against my brother; me and my brother against our father; my family against my cousins and the clan; the clan against the tribe; and the tribe against the world and all of us against the infidel.

Even with my father and brother dying, I didn't quite process the grief.

My brother and I both used to worry about dying at 40 because our father died at 40. That probably wasn't terribly rational, since my father led a rather unhealthy lifestyle, shall we say.

My mother was okay with me not playing it safe. She made an agreement with my father that I was going to be raised differently than my brother and sister were. My parents went through the whole sixties rebellion with my brother and sister. But I didn't feel like I had to rebel because I didn't have anyone telling me I couldn't do something. I never went into that parents-as-enemies stage.

My dear brother Barack Obama has a certain fear of free black men. As a young brother who grows up in a white context, brilliant African father, he's always had to fear being a white man with black skin. All he has known culturally is white. He has a certain rootlessness, a deracination.

Family doesn't necessarily mean that you have to have a mother, a father, a little brother, and an older sister.

My father wasn't present, so my older brother felt like a father. He was only two years older than me so that was all I had.

My older brother's a cricket groundsman, my other brother's a salesman, and my younger brother's a trader in the City.

It's a little bit in the genes because my brother is a journalist and my father was a sports writer.

I'm the only Red in our family! You know my father, my brother, my brother-in-law, my 14-year-old niece and two of my uncles are all City season ticket holders. So I'm gonna say 5-0 to United!

I am very close to my brother Ramesh Babu. When my father was away for shootings, my brother would take care of me, and I am very close to him, and yes, Dad's always special. He used to call me and enquire about my film's progress. Whenever I deliver a hit, I can see a glow on my father's face.

Afghans excel at fighting Afghans. This is what Afghans do, even when they are not being invaded by foreign powers. They fight each other, tribe against tribe, brother against brother, half-brother against half-brother, cousin against cousin, uncle against nephew, father against son.

I can't even give my father a proper gift. Every single Father's Day means so much to me. I'm so close to him. He's my big brother, but also my father.

It is the child of avarice, the brother of iniquity, and the father of mischief.

I was attracted to cricket at a very young age. My father's elder brother Akram Siddiq saw the passion for cricket in me, so he pushed me, and then another uncle - father of Kamran, Umar, and Adnan Akmal - advised my father to work hard on me, as he thought that I will make it big in cricket.

I had five sisters and one brother, so having a big family is a given for me, but now being a father, and trying to be a good father, I already have my work cut out for me.

There are times when a lover longs to be also a father and a brother: he is jealous of the years he hasn't shared.

I am very close to my brother Ramesh Babu. When my father was away for shootings, my brother would take care of me, and I am very close to him, and yes, Dad's always special.

My father and my brother are chefs.

Everywhere I am hindered of meeting God in my brother, because he has shut his own temple doors and recites fables merely of his brother's, or his brother's brother's God.

My father is an anchor and my brother is as well.

How strange it is that Socrates, after having made the children common, should hinder lovers from carnal intercourse only, but should permit love and familiarities between father and son or between brother and brother, than which nothing can be more unseemly, since even without them love of this sort is improper. How strange, too, to forbid intercourse for no other reason than the violence of the pleasure, as though the relationship of father and son or of brothers with one another made no difference.

It always seems to the brothers and the father that their brother or son didn't marry the right person.

I was scared when I lost my mother, my father, my brother, my sister.

My brother (Bruno Mars) is as smart as he is because a lot of things he's doing, creativity wise, our Dad used to do. Things my father used to do visually and musically. I see a lot of my father's influence in both of us.

I had just been promoted to the first rugby team. It was a perfect, wonderful coming of age. My brother was already in the team, and my father had come to watch us. We went home, and my father died in front of me. Horribly, in about half an hour. He had a heart attack.

Although I may not be my brother's keeper, I am my brother's brother, and 'because I have been given much, I too must give.'

For my father the one calamity was that my brother and sister and I never learned to swim. My father, who was very macho, was a strong swimmer and was terribly disappointed to have children who didn't swim. Once when my mother was sitting in a beach chair - I can still see the big umbrella - she called to my father, "Throw them in! Throw them in! They'll swim!" So he did. Then he looked down, and there were the three Sendak children lying perfectly still underwater, not fighting for life!

I have a brother and we lost our father when I was 15. And that was a big emotional upheaval in my life.

And so [my brother] Gilbert and I, brought up without a formal religion, remained throughout our lifetimes just what Father was, freethinkers. And, likewise, doubters and dissenters and perhaps Utopians. Father's rule had been 'Question everything, take nothing for granted,' and I never outlived it, and I would suggest it be made the motto of a world journalists' association.

My family background really only consists of my mother. She was a widow. My father died quite young; he must have been thirty-one. Then there was my twin brother and my sister. We had two aunts as well, my father's sisters. But the immediate family consisted of my mother, my brother, my sister, and me.

Niepokalanow is a home like Nazareth. The Father is God the Father, the mother and mistress of the home is the Immaculata, the firstborn son and our brother is Jesus in the most Holy Sacrament of the altar. All the younger brothers try to imitate the elder Brother in love and honor towards God and the Immaculata, our common parents, and from the Immaculata they try to love the divine elder Brother, the ideal of sanctity who deigned to come down from heaven to be incarnated in her and to live with us in the tabernacle.

My mother was murdered by my step-father, my brother's father, who was also named Joel, twenty-five years ago. Whatever sadness or burden I've been living with since then, my brother's also been living with, but he's lived with the added burden of having the exact same name as our mother's murderer.

My father blamed me for my brother Gunther's death, for not bringing him home. He died in an avalanche as we descended from the summit of Nanga Parbat, one of the 14 peaks over 8,000m, in 1970. Gunther and I did so much together. It was difficult for my father to understand what it was like up there.

I have a brother who's a schoolteacher, a sister who's a graphic artist, a brother who is a lawyer. I have a brother who's a carpenter.

I can admire the solemn and stately language of worship that recognizes the greatness of God, but it will not warm my heart or express my soul until it has also blended therewith the joyful nearness of that perfect love that casts out fear and ventures to speak with our Father in heaven as a child speaks with its father on earth. My brother, no veil remains.

My father was murdered when I was two. Duane, even though he was only a year and 18 days my elder, he became a father figure to me. I would have done anything for my brother - I loved him so much.

My mother and father split up when I was three and my brother was still in the womb.

It does not require great art, or magnificently trained eloquence, to prove that Christians should tolerate each other. I, however, am going further: I say that we should regard all men as our brothers. What? The Turk my brother? The Chinaman my brother? The Jew? The Siam? Yes, without doubt; are we not all children of the same father and creatures of the same God?

I literally didn't know my father. My mother had been a secretary, and after she and my father split, she went back to work for an advertising executive. So my older brother and I were "latch-door kids." We went home for lunch and after school by ourselves.

My sister has seen my father's love and my brother, but not me. But Maniesh, I didn't even get love from my brother in my house, because everyone's busy with their own work. But now, the love I get from my husband has made me realise how a man is supposed to care.

I shun father and mother and wife and brother, when my genius calls me.

As a warning to parents, I mention that my father preferred me to my brother, which was very injurious to both of us. To me, as tending to produce in my mind a feeling of self-elevation; and to my brother, by creating in him a dislike both towards my father and me.

My parents were incredibly strict. My father went through a stage where he'd line us up every Friday and cane our hands if we'd been naughty. And this was mainly to pull my brother into line. My brother is five years older and my sister's eight years older. He would use a little bamboo cane, which my brother saw most of.

Listen to me, kid. Don't forget that you are in a concentration camp. In this place, it is every many for himself, and you cannot think of others. Not even you father. In this place, there is no such thing as father, brother, friend. Each of us lives and dies alone. Let me give you good advice: stop giving your ration of bread and soup to your old father. You cannot help him anymore. And you are hurting yourself. In fact, you should be getting his rations.

The Holy Spirit acts mystically through the spiritual father, and then when you go out from your spiritual father, the soul feels her renewal. But if you leave your spiritual father in a state of confusion, this means that you did not confess purely and did not forgive your brother all of his sins from your heart.

I've made love to my mother, killed my father, and my brother. What am I to do?