To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power.
When you are looking at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.
Having children just puts the whole world into perspective. Everything else just disappears.
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.
I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.
In the mother’s eyes, her smile, her stroking touch, the child reads the message: ‘You are there!’
A mother’s arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.
It’s not easy being a mother. If it were, fathers would do it.
Mothers hold their children’s hands for a short while, but their hearts forever.
Mother love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible.
The influence of a mother in the lives of her children is beyond calculation.
A mother’s love is more beautiful than any fresh flower.
A mother is not a person to lean on, but a person to make leaning unnecessary
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.
If evolution really works, how come mothers have only two hands?
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.
My mother is a walking miracle.
There’s no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.
All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.