Youth is a wonderful thing. What a crime to waste it on children. ~George Bernard Shaw
My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." "We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising boys." ~Harmon Killebrew
My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." "We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising boys." ~Harmon Killebrew
Spread the diaper in the position of the diamond with you at bat. Then fold second base down to home and set the baby on the pitcher's mound. Put first base and third together, bring up home plate and pin the three together. Of course, in case of rain, you gotta call the game and start all over again. ~Jimmy Piersal, on how to diaper a baby, 1968
The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left. ~Jerry M. Wright
Just remember, once you're over the hill you begin to pick up speed. ~Charles Schulz
Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes. ~Gloria Naylor
The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left. ~Jerry M. Wright
The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left. ~Jerry M. Wright
Time may be a great healer, but it's a lousy beautician. ~Author Unknown
Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later... that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. ~Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
