The loveliest masterpiece of the heart of God is the heart of a mother.
My mother is a walking miracle.
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.
There is no velvet so soft as a mother’s lap, no rose as lovely as her smile, no path so flowery as that imprinted with her footsteps.
In the mother’s eyes, her smile, her stroking touch, the child reads the message: ‘You are there!’
A mother is the one who fills your heart in the first place.
If evolution really works, how come mothers have only two hands?
The art of mothering is to teach the art of living to children.
No language can express the power and beauty and heroism of a mother’s love.