It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.
I talk and talk and talk, and I haven't taught people in 50 years what my father taught by example in one week.
My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.
Death ends a life, not a relationship.
I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love.
My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me.
Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope.
A father is always making his baby into a little woman. And when she is a woman he turns her back again.
The greatest gift I ever had Came from God; I call him Dad!
A father carries pictures where his money used to be.
I just owe almost everything to my father and it's passionately interesting for me that the things that I learned in a small town, in a very modest home, are just the things that I believe have won the election.
Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes.
The words that a father speaks to his children in the privacy of home are not heard by the world, but, as in whispering galleries, they are clearly heard at the end, and by posterity.
My father died. It is still a deep regret to me this day that in choosing acting as my career I was forced to hurt him. He died too early to see I had done the right, the only thing.
It's a source of great sadness to me that my father died without having seen me do anything worthwhile. He was constantly having to make excuses for me.
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts. There's fennel for you, and columbines: — there 's rue for you; and here's some for me: — we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays: — you may wear your rue with a difference. — There's a daisy: — I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died: — They say, he made a good end.
I got my very last tattoo after my father died. I'm not getting anymore; otherwise I'll end up like Mike Tyson with a tattoo on my face.
In families there is always the mythology. My father died when my kids were quite young still, and yet they still tell his stories. That is how a person lives on.
What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within's two hours.
Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims' pride, From every mountainside Let freedom ring!
or simply:
