A toast once heard: "To my big sister, who never found her second Easter egg until I'd found my first."
Sisters, as you know, also have a unique relationship. This is the person who has known you your entire life, who should love you and stand by you no matter what, and yet it's your sister who knows exactly where to drive the knife to hurt you the most.
Sweet, crazy conversations full of half sentences, daydreams and misunderstandings more thrilling than understanding could ever be.
If you have a sister and she dies, do you stop saying you have one? Or are you always a sister, even when the other half of the equation is gone?
The younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.
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.
Your siblings are the only people in the world who know what it's like to have been brought up the way you were.
You keep your past by having sisters. As you get older, they're the only ones who don't get bored if you talk about your memories.
A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double.
One of my fondest memories from childhood is of looking at a globe with my father. "What's the biggest country?" he'd ask me and my sister. We'd spin the globe around and guess. . . . The globe brought me a sense of wonder and adventure. I wanted to go to those other places and see how people did things differently. And, many years later, when I did visit other countries, I took my father's interest and fascination with me. When we plant the seeds of fascination and respect for other people, we are teaching tolerance and peace.
If you want to know how your girl will treat you after marriage, just listen to her talking to her little brother.
There is a little boy inside the man who is my brother... Oh, how I hated that little boy. And how I love him too.
I was raised by all women. I had no men in my life; it was my mom, my sister, and my grandmother. I've never identified as a man. I've always either felt like a boy or something else. I feel really uncomfortable thinking that, technically, I'm supposed to be a man, because I don't feel like one.
At this time I'd like to say a few words especially to my sisters: SISTERS. BLACK PEOPLE WILL NEVER BE FREE UNLESS BLACK WOMEN PARTICIPATE IN EVERY ASPECT OF OUR STRUGGLE, ON EVERY LEVEL OF OUR STRUGGLE.
And," added Mikey. "she's my sister." The others looked at him for a moment, and broke out laughing. "Yeah, yeah," Squirrel scoffed, "and the McGill is my cousin." Now Allie burst out laughing, which made Mikey more annoyed. "If the McGill was your cousin," Mikey said, "I can guarantee he'd disown you.
My sister's the type who religiously watches the fear segments of her local Eyewitness News broadcasts, retaining nothing but the headline...Everything is dangerous all of the time, and if it's not yet been pulled off the shelves, then it's certainly under investigation -- so there.
but my dad said it was no excuse. "But I love him!" I had never seen my sister cry that much. "No, you don't." "I hate you!" "No, you don't." My dad can be very calm sometimes. "He's my whole world." "Don't ever say that about anyone again. Not even me." That was my mom.
You once said you loved me. Do you still?" My sister is watching this exchange between us. She smiles warmly at me, giving me the strength to tell him the truth. "I never stopped loving you. Even when I tried desperately to forget you. I couldn't.
Hello, my sister, Libby, also your daughter, is snogging a potato in my bed. What are you going to do about it?' Dad started yelling uncontrollably. I wonder if he is having the male menopause? If he starts growing breasts, I will definitely be running away with the Circus.
In moments when I question if I should be having kids, I think of all those phone calls from my sister-in-law, in which, 3,000 miles away, I hear my nephews screaming for her attention. I tell her I have to go because I am packing to leave for Europe, and her tone flatlines: "That must be nice."
My sister was always very motherly, babysitting and stuff.
I could point out that that's not a dress, that's underwear, but I doubt it would be in my best interest." "Need I remind you," said Sebastian, "That that is my sister?" "Most brother's would be delighted to see such a clean-cut gentleman as myself squiring their sister's about town.
My sister Emily loved the moors. Flowers brighter than the rose bloomed in the blackest of the heath for her; out of a sullen hollow in a livid hillside her mind could make an Eden. She found in the bleak solitude many and dear delights; and not the least and best-loved was – liberty.
Emery cut in impatiantly, "For crying out loud. Who do you think you are, Nancy Drew?" Hey," I snapped, because no one sniped at my sister but me, and Mark echoed with a stern "Chill, dude." Phin was unperturbed. "Those books were highly unrealistic. Do you have any idea how much brain damage a person would have if she were hit on the head and drugged with chloroform that often?
I see that you’ve had the non-pleasure of meeting my sister.Jordo, this is Rylann Pierce.” Jordan raised an eyebrow pointedly at Kyle. He glared. An entire dialogue seemed to pass between them
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