Sadness is more or less like a head cold - with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
Barbara KingsolverRead
Sometimes the strength of motherhood is greater than natural laws.
Interpretation
Motherhood can surpass inherent limitations and expectations.
This quote emphasizes the extraordinary and often unexplainable strength that mothers possess. It suggests that the protective and nurturing instincts of a mother can override even the most fundamental natural laws, illustrating the depth of maternal love and the lengths to which a mother will go for her child.
In practice
In a speech about parenting, one might say, 'Sometimes the strength of motherhood is greater than natural laws.'
Sadness is more or less like a head cold - with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.
Children can be your heartache. But that doesn't matter, you have to go on and have them . . . it works out.
I'm of a fearsome mind to throw my arms around every living librarian who crosses my path, on behalf of the souls they never knew they saved.
I did it to win love, and to prove myself capable. Not to move mountains. In my opinions, mountains don't move. They only look changed when you look down on them from great height.
Memory is a complicated thing, a relative to truth, but not its twin.
Empathy is really the opposite of spiritual meanness. It's the capacity to understand that every war is both won and lost. And that someone else's pain is as meaningful as your own.
Before I was married to Martin and became a King, I was a proud Scott, shaped by my mother's discernment and my father's strength.
You parents of the wilful and the wayward! Don't give them up. Don't cast them off. They are not utterly lost. The Shepherd will find his sheep. They were His before they were yours - long before He entrusted them to your care; and you cannot begin to love them as He loves them.
Dad is and always will be my living, breathing superhero.
My family was always present when I needed them and sometimes felt even stronger emotions than me.
My mother, she killed me, My father, he ate me, My sister Marlene, Gathered all my bones, Tied them in a silken scarf, Laid them beneath the juniper tree, Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
I don't beat myself up any more about going to work. It doesn't mean I'm being a bad mother just because I want to go and do my job sometimes.
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