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A mother's heart is always with her children.

The mother's heart is the child's schoolroom.
A mother understands what a child does not say.
God couldn't be everywhere, so he created mothers
Some are kissing mothers and some are scolding mothers, but it is love just the same -- and most mothers kiss and scold together.
My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it.
Anyone who doesn't miss the past never had a mother.
A mother who is really a mother is never free.
My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute all my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her.
God could not be everywhere, and therefore He made mothers.
I believe that always, or almost always, in all childhood and in all the lives that follow them, the mother represents madness. Our mothers always remain the strangest, craziest people we've ever met.
A man never sees all that his mother has been to him until it's too late to let her know he sees it.
Of all the rights of women, the greatest is to be a mother.
What do girls do who haven't any mothers to help them through their troubles?
A mother's yearning feels the presence of the cherished child even in the degraded man.
Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.
Where there is a mother in the home, matters go well.
The lullaby is the spell whereby the mother attempts to transform herself back from an ogre to a saint.
The watchful mother tarries nigh, though sleep has closed her infants eyes.
He that would the daughter win must with the mother first begin.
There was never a great man who had not a great mother.
How simple a thing it seems to me that to know ourselves as we are, we must know our mothers names.
Motherhood is the strangest thing, it can be like being one's own Trojan horse.
Let France have good mothers, and she will have good sons.
Nobody can misunderstand a boy like his own mother. Mothers at present can bring children into the world, but this performance is apt to mark the end of their capacities. They can't even attend to the elementary animal requirements of their offspring. It is quite surprising how many children survive in spite of their mothers.
The fact that we are all trained to be mothers from infancy on means that we are all trained to devote our lives to men, whether they are our sons or not; that we are all trained to force other women to exemplify the lack of qualities which characterizes the cultural construct of femininity.
Take motherhood: nobody ever thought of putting it on a moral pedestal until some brash feminists pointed out, about a century ago, that the pay is lousy and the career ladder nonexistent.
Every man must define his identity against his mother. If he does not, he just falls back into her and is swallowed up.
An ounce of mother is worth a pound of clergy.
Biological possibility and desire are not the same as biological need. Women have childbearing equipment. For them to choose not to use the equipment is no more blocking what is instinctive than it is for a man who, muscles or no, chooses not to be a weightlifter.
Young women especially have something invested in being nice people, and it's only when you have children that you realize you're not a nice person at all, but generally a selfish bully.
When a woman is twenty, a child deforms her; when she is thirty, he preserves her; and when forty, he makes her young again.
The best thing that could happen to motherhood already has. Fewer women are going into it.
Women know the way to rear up children (to be just). They know a simple, merry, tender knack of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, and stringing pretty words that make no sense. And kissing full sense into empty words.
There are lots of things that you can brush under the carpet about yourself until you're faced with somebody whose needs won't be put off.
The kind of power mothers have is enormous. Take the skyline of Istanbul -- enormous breasts, pathetic little willies, a final revenge on Islam. I was so scared I had to crouch in the bottom of the boat when I saw it.
For that's what a woman, a mother wants -- to teach her children to take an interest in life. She knows it's safer for them to be interested in other people's happiness than to believe in their own.
No culture on earth outside of mid-century suburban America has ever deployed one woman per child without simultaneously assigning her such major productive activities as weaving, farming, gathering, temple maintenance, and tent-building. The reason is that full-time, one-on-one child-raising is not good for women or children.
But the mother's yearning, that completest type of the life in another life which is the essence of real human love, feels the presence of the cherished child even in the debased, degraded man.
The mother as a social servant instead of a home servant will not lack in true mother duty. From her work, loved and honored though it is, she will return to her home life, the child life, with an eager, ceaseless pleasure, cleansed of all the fret and fraction and weariness that so mar it now.
Morality and its victim, the mother -- what a terrible picture! Is there indeed anything more terrible, more criminal, than our glorified sacred function of motherhood?
All that remains to the mother in modern consumer society is the role of scapegoat; psychoanalysis uses huge amounts of money and time to persuade analysis and to foist their problems on to the absent mother, who has no opportunity to utter a word in her own defense. Hostility to the mother in our societies is an index of mental health.
Few misfortunes can befall a boy which bring worse consequences than to have a really affectionate mother.
The Enemy, who wears her mother's usual face and confidential tone, has access; doubtless stares into her writing case and listens on the phone.
Clearly, society has a tremendous stake in insisting on a woman's natural fitness for the career of mother: the alternatives are all too expensive.
A busy mother makes slothful daughters.
Maternity is on the face of it an unsociable experience. The selfishness that a woman has learned to stifle or to dissemble where she alone is concerned, blooms freely and unashamed on behalf of her offspring.
The worker can unionize, go out on strike; mothers are divided from each other in homes, tied to their children by compassionate bonds; our wildcat strikes have most often taken the form of physical or mental breakdown.
As her sons have seen her: the mother in patriarchy: controlling, erotic, castrating, heart-suffering, guilt-ridden, and guilt-provoking; a marble brow, a huge breast, an avid cave; between her legs snakes, swamp-grass, or teeth; on her lap a helpless infant or a martyred son. She exists for one purpose: to bear and nourish the son.
Only in America do these peasants, our mothers, get their hair dyed platinum at the age of sixty, and walk up and down Collins Avenue in Florida in pedal pushers and mink stoles -- and with opinions on every subject under the sun. It isn't their fault they were given a gift like speech -- look, if cows could talk, they would say things just as idiotic.
Mothers are the most instinctive philosophers.
Men never think, at least seldom think, what a hard task it is for us women to go through this very often. God's will be done, and if He decrees that we are to have a great number of children why we must try to bring them up as useful and exemplary members of society.
A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.
Lord Illingworth: All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. Mrs. Allonby: No man does. That is his.