When the strongest words for what I have to offer come out of me sounding like words I remember from my mother’s mouth, then I either have to reassess the meaning of everything I have to say now, or re-examine the worth of her old words.

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.

A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.

A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.

A mother's love is indeed the golden link that binds youth to age; and he is still but a child, however time may have furrowed his cheek, or silvered his brow, who can yet recall, with a softened heart, the fond devotion or the gentle chidings of the best friend that God ever gives us.

A mother's arms are made of tenderness, and children sleep soundly in them.

She had listened to nothing, but mothers hear certain things without listening.

Youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall;A mother's secret hope outlives them all.

The sweetest sounds to mortals given Are heard in Mother, Home, and Heaven.