The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.
A mother's love is something that no one can explain — It is made of deep devotion and of sacrifice and pain. It is endless and unselfish and enduring, come what may, For nothing can destroy it or take that love away. It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking, And it never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking.
Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.
Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.
Youth fades, love droops, the leaves of friendship fall; A mother's secret hope outlives them all.
The mother-child relationship is paradoxical and, in a sense, tragic. It requires the most intense love on the mother's side, yet this very love must help the child grow away from the mother, and to become fully independent.
A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.
A mother is not a person to lean on, but a person to make leaning unnecessary.
There is no way to be a perfect mother, and a million ways to be a good one.
The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.
If you have a mom, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been.
The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.
The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.
If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!
I want my children to have all the things I couldn't afford. Then I want to move in with them.
A mighty power and stronger Man from his throne has hurled,For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world.
A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world.
Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers, and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world.
Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.
My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute all my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her.
Some are kissing mothers and some are scolding mothers, but it is love just the same, and most mothers kiss and scold together.
Mother's love is peace. It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved.
The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.
Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not.
God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.
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