An older sister is a friend and defender - a listener, conspirator, a counsellor and a sharer of delights. And sorrows too.
My sister taught me everything I really need to know, and she was only in sixth grade at the time.
Elder sisters never can do younger ones justice!
There's no better friend than a sister.
Sisterly love is, of all sentiments, the most abstract. Nature does not grant it any functions.
Sweet is the voice of a sister in the season of sorrow.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Sisters share the scent and smells... the feel of a common childhood.
We may look old and wise to the outside world. But to each other, we are still in junior school.
Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer.
Sisters annoy, interfere, criticize. Indulge in monumental sulks, in huffs, in snide remarks. Borrow. Break. Monopolize the bathroom. Are always underfoot. But if catastrophe should strike, sisters are there. Defending you against all comers.
Whatever you do they will love you; even if they don't love you they are connected to you till you die. You can be boring and tedious with -sisters, whereas you have to put on a good face with friends.
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.
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.
A toast once heard: "To my big sister, who never found her second Easter egg until I'd found my first."
Between sisters, often, the child's cry never dies down. "Never leave me," it says; "do not abandon me."
The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.