Youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall. A mother’s secret hope outlives them all.
My mother is a walking miracle.
Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother’s love is not.
Acceptance, tolerance, bravery, compassion. These are the things my mom taught me.
It’s not easy being a mother. If it were, fathers would do it.
A mother is clothed with strength and dignity, laughs without fear of the future. When she speaks her words are wise and she gives instructions with kindness.
When you are looking at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.
To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power.
A mother is not a person to lean on, but a person to make leaning unnecessary
Mother: the most beautiful word on the lips of mankind.
There is only one pretty child in the world, and every mother has it.
A mother is a mother still, the holiest thing alive.
Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.
A mother’s arms are more comforting than anyone else’s.
A mother’s love is more beautiful than any fresh flower.
To a child’s ear, ‘mother’ is magic in any language.
God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.
Having children just puts the whole world into perspective. Everything else just disappears.
When you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.
A mother’s arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.