The loveliest masterpiece of the heart of God is the heart of a mother.
When you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.
If evolution really works, how come mothers have only two hands?
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.
In the mother’s eyes, her smile, her stroking touch, the child reads the message: ‘You are there!’
Mothers hold their children’s hands for a short while, but their hearts forever.
Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother’s love is not.
We have a secret in our culture, and it’s not that birth is painful. It’s that women are strong.
Mothers are like glue. Even when you can’t see them, they’re still holding the family together.
All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.