We know one another's faults, virtues, catastrophes, mortifications, triumphs, rivalries, desires, and how long we can each hang by our hands to a bar. We have been banded together under pack codes and tribal laws.
It's hard to be responsible, adult and sensible all the time. How good it is to have a sister whose heart is as young as your own.
Sisters don't need words. They have perfected a language of snarls and smiles and frowns and winks - expressions of shocked surprise and incredulity and disbelief. Sniffs and snorts and gasps and sighs - that can undermine any tale you're telling.
Sweet is the voice of a sister in the season of sorrow.
A younger sister is someone to use as a guinea-pig in trying sledges and experimental go-carts. Someone to send on messages to Mum. But someone who needs you - who comes to you with bumped heads, grazed knees, tales of persecution. Someone who trusts you to defend her. Someone who thinks you know the answers to almost everything.
Sisters share the scent and smells... the feel of a common childhood.
If sisters were free to express how they really feel, parents would hear this: "Give me all the attention and all the toys and send Rebecca to live with Grandma."
Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer.
Husbands come and go; children come and eventually they go. Friends grow up and move away. But the one thing that's never lost is your sister.
One of the best things about being an adult is the realization that you can share with your sister and still have plenty for yourself.
In thee my soul shall own combined the sister and the friend.
I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.
If your sister is in a tearing hurry to go out and cannot catch your eye, she's wearing your best sweater.
Help one another is part of the religion of our sisterhood.
If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child.
My sister taught me everything I really need to know, and she was only in sixth grade at the time.
For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather.
We may look old and wise to the outside world. But to each other, we are still in junior school.
Sisterly love is, of all sentiments, the most abstract. Nature does not grant it any functions.
There can be no situation in life in which the conversation of my dear sister will not administer some comfort to me.
I would like more sisters, that the taking out of one, might not leave such stillness.
A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double.
Is solace anywhere more comforting than that in the arms of a sister.
Big sisters are the crab grass in the lawn of life.
More than Santa Claus, your sister knows when you've been bad and good.
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