A Papa Quotes & Sayings

If what Granma Mary Rommely said is true, then it must be that no one ever dies, really. Papa is gone, but he's still here in many ways. He's here in Neeley who looks just like him and in Mama who knew him so long. He's here in his mother who began him and who is still living. Maybe I will have a boy some day who looks like Papa and has all of Papa's good without the drinking. And that boy will have a boy. And that boy will have a boy. It might be there is no real death. — Betty Smith

What is there to imagine with a gun?" asked Papa . . . .
"Something dead," Papa said more quietly. "That's what there is to imagine with a gun. — Paula Fox

I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy, and it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa, and I can only stay home and knit like a poky old woman (Josephine) — Louisa May Alcott

Papa is just a kid who's playing the dead serious grown-up. — Muriel Barbery

In a pocket of his knapsack he'd found a last half packet of cocoa and he fixed it for the boy and then poured his own cup with hot water and sat blowing at the rim.
You promised not to do that, the boy said.
What?
You know what, Papa.
He poured the hot water back into the pan and took the boy's cup and poured some of the cocoa into his own and then handed it back.
I have to watch you all the time, the boy said. — Cormac McCarthy

Papa!" she whispered. "I have no eyes!"
He patted the girl's hair. She'd fallen into his trap. "With a smile like that," Hans Hubermann said, "you don't need eyes. — Markus Zusak

You play a 'lowdown dirty shame slow and lonesome, my mama dead, my papa across the sea I ain't dead but I'm just supposed to be' blues. You can take that same blues, make it uptempo, a shuffle blues, that's what rock n' roll did with it. So blues ain't going nowhere. Ain't goin' nowhere. — David Edwards

He just likes to have fun, Papa."
"That's not a quality that gets you far in life. — Adriana Trigiani

Papa, do you believe there is any meaning to life?" I blurted out. "I don't not believe" he said sternly. "I know. The meaning of life - the meaning of a single, individual human life, since I assume that is what you are asking - consists of figuring out the one thing you are great stand then pushing mankind's mastery of that one thing as far as you are able, be it an inch or a mile. If you are a carpenter, be a carpenter with every ounce of your being and invent a new type of saw. If you are an archaeologist, find the tomb of Alexander the Great. If you are Alexander the Great, conquer the world. And never to anything by half — Olga Grushin

A Good Man. Every night, like a question-and-answer prayer, my son and I recite ... What are you going to be? And he says ... An honest man. A fair man. A courageous man. And a good man. That's the most important thing, Papa. And my job is finally done. For the night. — Carew Papritz

This club's no place for you, tibby," he had told her with gruff fondness. "You has to stay away from a milling cove like me, and find some rum cull to marry."
"Papa," she had begged, stammering desperately, "d-don't send me back there. Pl-please, please let me stay with you."
"Little tangle-tongue, you belong with the Maybricks. And no use to hop the twig and run back here. I'll only send you off again. — Lisa Kleypas

Because of baseball I smelled the rose of life. I wanted to travel, and to have nice clothes. Baseball allowed me to do all those things, and most important, during my time with the Crawfords, it allowed me to become a member of the brotherhood of friendship which will last forever. — Cool Papa Bell

As the children were sitting there eating pears, a girl came walking along the road from town. When she saw the children she stopped and asked, "Have you seen my papa go by?"
"M-m-m," said Pippi. "How did he look? Did he have blue eyes?"
"Yes," said the girl.
"Medium large, not too tall and not too short?"
"Yes," said the girl.
"Black hat and black shoes?"
"Yes, exactly," said the girl eagerly.
"No, that one we haven't seen," said Pippi decidedly. — Astrid Lindgren

Just who am I?" the rough baritone asked in the infuriatingly amused tone one might use with a temperamental child. You're a monster, she wanted to say. A giant - huge and thickly muscled and terrifying. But she flung back her answer like her papa's own daughter. "You're the rebel bastard Glen Lyon. — Kimberly Cates

Today at school I will learn to read at once; then tomorrow I will begin to write, and the day after tomorrow to cipher. Then with my acquirements I will earn a great deal of money, and with the first money I have in my pocket I will immediately buy for my papa a beautiful new cloth coat. But what am I saying? Cloth, indeed! It shall be all made of gold and silver, and it shall have diamond buttons. That poor man really deserves it; for to buy me books and to have me taught he has remained in his shirt sleeves ... And in this cold! It is only fathers who are capable of such sacrifices! ... — Carlo Collodi

Official opposition to overall economic planning and planning controls has been characterized in a recent editorial as "Papa knows best". But it is precisely because Papa does not know best that I believe that Government should not presume to tell any businessman or industrialist what he should or should not do, far less what he may or not do; and no matter how it may be dressed up that is what planning is. — John James Cowperthwaite

There's nothing like a love for our children. I love being a papa, and that's the truth. — Richie Sambora

PAPA'S NAME, UZO, meant "door," or "the way." It was a solid kind of name, strong-like and self-reliant, unlike mine, Ijeoma (which was just a wish: "safe journey"), or Mama's, Adaora (which was just saying that she was the daughter of all, daughter of the community, which was really what all daughters were, when you thought about it). — Chinelo Okparanta

It's not being a woman I mind so much," she said slowly. "'Tis the way men seem to always order my life." She leaned earnestly toward him. "Your hand, Papa, has wielded a sword and cradled a child and held power over hundreds of men." She held up her own hand. "This one has far fewer adventures before it. — Barbara Samuel

Mistakes are a part of life, and Papa works her purpose in them too. — Wm. Paul Young

THEO: Who do you picture when you think of me?
MORGAN: Papa Smurf.
THEO: Do you have a camera in here somewhere?
MORGAN: Yes, Theo. I watch you jerk off to smurf porn every night. — Con Riley

Now, Mama, Papa, and sir," said Ramses, "please withdraw to the farthest corner and crouch down with your backs turned. It is as I feared; we will never break through by this method. The walls are eight feet thick. Fortunately I brought along a little nitroglycerin
" "Oh, good Gad," shrieked Inspector Cuff. — Barbara Mertz

The son will run away from the family not at eighteen but at twelve, emancipated by his gluttonous precocity; he will fly not to seek heroic adventures, not to deliver a beautiful prisoner from a tower, not to immortalize a garret with sublime thoughts, but to found a business, to enrich himself and to compete with his infamous papa. — Charles Baudelaire

You must not imagine that Papa or I have the least notion of compelling you to marry anyone whom you hold in aversion, for I am sure that such a thing would be quite shocking! And Charles would not do so either, would you, dear Charles?"(Elizabeth Ombersley)
"No, certainly not. But neither would I consent to her marriage with any such frippery fellow as Augustus Fawnhope!"
"Augustus," announced Cecilia, putting up her chin, "will be remembered long after you have sunk into oblivion!"
"By his creditors? I don't doubt it. — Georgette Heyer

There was a little girl
Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good, she was very, very good.
And when she was "bad",
Her Papa loved her anyway. — Kristen McKee

Papa says that wars take three generations to fade from the ground where they're fought. And from what I've seen, Friends have quite long memories, as well." "He might just have a point. — Diana Gabaldon

In mid-February, when she turned ten, Liesel was given a used doll that had a missing leg and yellow hair. "It was the best we could do," Papa apologized. "What are you talking about? She's lucky to have that much," Mama corrected him. — Markus Zusak

After years, she had relegated all thoughts of him to the closet; in time, she'd forgotten. Now she remembered. It scared her to feel this way. He had hurt her so many times. "Papa." He went to the loveseat and sat down. The cushions sagged tiredly beneath his meager weight. "I was a terrible father to you girls." It was so surprising - and true - that Vianne had no idea what to say. He sighed. "It's too late now to fix all that." She joined him at the loveseat, sat down beside him. "It's never too late," she said cautiously. Was it true? Could she forgive him? Yes. The answer came instantly, as unexpected as his appearance here. He turned to her. "I have so much to say and no time to say it. — Kristin Hannah

Papa wants you to marry some decrepit old wigsby?" She gave him a charmingly rueful smile, all tousled golden curls like some angel who had rolled off a cloud in her sleep, he thought, and had fallen to earth with a thud. "Something like that," she said in vague amusement. "I see. Well, surely we can find a solution." He snapped his fingers and gave her a grin. "Shall I ruin you? That should solve your problem. The old wigsby won't want you if you're used goods, and I assure you, I'd be happy to oblige. — Gaelen Foley

Papa sat down at the table and poured his tea from the china tea set with pink flowers on the edges. I waited for him to ask Jaja and me to take a sip, as he always did. A love sip, he called it, because you shared the little things you loved with the people you love. — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I once caught a bid, I never hit skid,
Never date a girl if the girl got a kid.
Nahhh ... papa's got a brand new bag
And I never hit skinz once they sag. — Grand Puba

I wish you had a 'little missus' who could pet you as I used to pet papa when he had a headache. I should like to be your 'little missus' myself, poor dear! Good night-good night. God bless you! — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I understood that one's environment is a key to one's identity, but that my environment, Papa Song's, was a key I had lost. — David Mitchell

Contemporary fantasists all bow politely to Lord Tennyson and Papa Tolkien, then step around them to go back to the original texts for inspiration
and there are a lot of those texts. We have King Arthur and his gang in English; we've got Siegfried and Brunhild in German; Charlemagne and Roland in French; El Cid in Spanish; Sigurd the Volsung in Icelandic; and assorted 'myghtiest Knights on lyfe' in a half-dozen other cultures. Without shame, we pillage medieval romance for all we're worth. — David Eddings

We[ Papa Roach ]'re always trying to get bigger and bigger. It's weird because I wasn't around when they sold millions of records. Now it's just always about "OK what new people can we get to." We're trying to package up with younger bands like Bring Me the Horizon or Of Mice and Men. Those bands always get talked about, because their demographic is so young. But, actually we are seeing a lot of younger people at shows which is awesome. — Tony Palermo

I asked my kids, 'Do you know what Papa used to do.' They said, 'You were a boxer, you won the Olympics!' And that's what they know. — Sugar Ray Leonard

I know what a human brain preserved in formaldehyde looks like," I said, "We've got to get out of here. Go to the party, act as though nothing's happened. He can't suspect that we know."

"How can I act like papa doesn't have a brain in a hatbox? — Megan Shepherd

Papa," she said easily, happily, walking across the park with him to
the Albert Hall. "What is it like to be in love?"
"Oh, it's marvellous," he said. "Or terrible. Or both. The Romans
saw it as a fit of madness that you wouldn't wish on anybody. But
there's nothing you can do about it, that's the main thing. — Louisa Young

He sat down on the bed and gathered her up in his arms as if she were a child. Like Abby, she thought woozily. Like Papa had with her so long ago. Weak, she succumbed to the heady scent of him, gave in to the unfamiliar feel of his arms and solidness of his chest as he cradled her. — Laura Frantz

She'd been told time and again that it was rude stare, but she didn't obey her mother's rule now. The giant mesmerized her and she wanted to remember everything she could about him.
He must have felt her staring at him, though because he suddenly turned and looked directly her.
Brenna decided to make her papa proud of her and behave like a proper young lady. She grabbed a fistful of her skirt, hiked it up to her knees, and bent down to curtsy. She promptly lost her balance and almost hit her head against the floor, but she was quick enough to lean back so she could land on her
bottom.
She stood back up, remembered to let go of her skirts, and peeked up at the stranger to see what he thought about her newly acquired skill.
The giant smiled at her.
As soon as he looked away, she squeezed herself up against Rachel's backside again.
"I'm going to marry him," she whispered. — Julie Garwood

Papa's always had the ability to remember the good things and let the bad ones go."
"Not a bad ability."
" ... I'm not sure. I think we have to remember it all before we can forgive it. — Madeleine L'Engle

She looked at him. Then she looked at the table stacked with books. Her lips curved in a wicked smile. "If you want us to keep pretending that you're sorting old books whenever we come by to chat, you shouldn't slam them on the table. We all know you wouldn't do that to a book that was truly ancient and fragile."
He closed his eyes and promised himself that he would not whimper. "You all know ?"
"Well, I don't think any of the boyos have figured it out, but all of the coven knows."
May the Darkness have mercy on me.
"Come on, Papa. Let's go bwaa ha ha. — Anne Bishop

Ron Reagan amazingly qualifies as an honest broker. I asked him if he was a mama's boy and he said no, more of a papa's boy. At the same time he was willing to say that his father had many shortcomings and needed to be held accountable. — Eugene Jarecki

Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding, do you even care if I die bleeding? — Papa Roach

We're the battling bastards of Bataan. No mama, no papa, no Uncle Sam. No aunts, no uncles, no cousins, no nieces. No pills, no planes, no artillery pieces. And nobody gives a damn. — Kenneth Edward Lim

Mama, before she got married, according to Aunt Emilia, was a firecracker, a tempestuous redhead, with thoughts of her own about liberty and equality for women. But then along came Papa, very serious and tall, with thoughts of his own too, about... liberty and equality for women. The trouble was in the coinciding subject matter. There was a collision. And nowadays Mama sews and embroiders and sings at the piano and makes little cakes on Saturdays, all like clockwork and cheerfully, She has ideas of her own, still, but they all come down to one: a wife should always go along with her husband, as the accessory goes along with the principal (my analogy, the result of Law School classes). — Clarice Lispector

Here's a secret to love," she said. "Always make sure that the man loves you just a breath more than you love him."
"Oh Mimi, I love your Papa more than any woman ever loved any man. And still, he loves me a breath more. It's the only healthy way. If a woman loves too much- if her love is heavier- she won't see anything but him. She'll be blind to the world. Women are made like that. We have to teach ourselves not to become obsessed. True love lies in peace, not torture. — Suzanne Palmieri

O, that's what troubles me, papa. You want me to live so happy, and never to have any pain, - never suffer anything, - not even hear a sad story, when other poor creatures have nothing but pain and sorrow, all their lives, - it seems selfish. I ought to know such things, I ought to feel about them! — Harriet Beecher Stowe

Mama, you know, lost all her enthusiasm for mothering by Baby Number Seven. What a pity she did not lose her enthusiasm for Papa at the same time. But then, I doubt she was ever altogether clear on where babies come from. She was very much astonished each time she found herself enceinte. Papa was naughty not to explain her. — Loretta Chase

When I first wrote 'Papa Hemingway,' there were too many people still alive, and the lawyers for Random House didn't want to OK it. But now all that's been filtered away by the passage of all these people. And having the fortune of surviving, I now feel that I am the custodian of what Ernest wanted the world to know about him and these women. — A. E. Hotchner

I'm just a proud papa and it's nice to get that validation from my colleagues in the industry. You get up, you pull your pants down and you're like, "Here it is!" — Richard Patrick

I'm here, Papa," she whispered, saying the words she had longed to say for her entire life. "I'm here, and I'm never going to leave you again."
He made a sound of contentment and closed his eyes. Just as Evie thought he had fallen asleep, he murmured, "Where shall we walk first today, lovey? The biscuit baker, I s'pose..."
Realizing that he imagined this was one of her long-ago childhood visits, Evie replied softly, "Oh, yes." Hastily she knuckled away the excess moisture from her eyes. "I want an iced bun... and a cone of broken biscuits... and then I want to come back here and play dice with you."
A rusty chuckle came from his ravaged throat, and he coughed a little. "Let Papa take forty winks before we leaves... there's a good girl..."
"Yes, sleep," Evie murmured, turning the cloth over on his forehead. "I can wait, Papa. — Lisa Kleypas

They walked on in silence for a while, until Rudy said, "I just wish I was like Jesse Owens, Papa." This time, Mr. Steiner placed his hand on Rudy's head and explained, "I know, son - but you've got beautiful blond hair and big, safe blue eyes. You should be happy with that; is that clear?" But nothing was clear. — Markus Zusak

I ... " He struggled to answer. "When everything was quiet, I went up to the corridor and the curtain in the livingroom was open just a crack ... I could see outside. I watched, only for a few seconds." He had not seen the outside world for twenty-two months.
There was no anger or reproach.
It was Papa who spoke.
How did it look?"
Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. "There were stars," he said. "They burned by eyes. — Markus Zusak

Ermaline has entered the room noiselessly and is whispering to Nana. When she leaves, Nana and Papa start talking about friends of Mom's who are in the middle of a scandalous divorce. Mom and Dad keep glancing at Adam, and Nana keeps asking Mom and Dad questions, pulling their attention back to the conversation. I have seen this before. It's Nana's highly effective and very annoying way of not mentioning the elephant in the living room. But why does she have to think of Adam as an elephant? Why can't he just be their son?
~pgs 40-42; Hattie on adults — Ann M. Martin

They also found a burial chamber, didn't they?' Richard asked. 'Yes.' 'Do you think it was used by the king?' Pa Anozie gave Richard a long, pained look and mumbled something for a while, looking grieved. Emeka laughed before he translated. 'Papa said he thought you were among the white people who know something. He said the people of Igboland do not know what a king is. We have priests and elders. The burial place was maybe for a priest. But the priest does not suffer people like king. It is because the white man gave us warrant chiefs that foolish men are calling themselves kings today. — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

When a thing such as wax, or gold, or silver, turns liquid from heat, we say that it has fused," Eliza said to her son, "and when such liquids run together and mix, we say they are con-fused." "Papa says I am confused sometimes." "As are we all," said Eliza. "For confusion is a kind of bewitchment - — Neal Stephenson

The goblins of the city may hold committees to divide a single potato, but the strong and the cruel still sit on the hill, and drink vodka, and wear black furs, and slurp borscht by the pail, like blood. Children may wear through their socks marching in righteous parades, but Papa never misses his wine with supper. Therefore, it is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair. At least, one eats better that way. And morality is more dependent on the state of one's stomach than of one's nation. — Catherynne M Valente

Papa was right, after all. A ship's crew was like a family, and together we had done what we never could have managed alone. — Heather Vogel Frederick

Do other dads not end their phone calls with existential despair? Because that's what my dad does. Papa ends most of his calls with me the way you might close a conversation with someone you want to menace. "Anyway," he'll say, "I'll be here. Staring into the abyss." Or, when I have given him good news, "The talented will rule and the rest will perish in the sea of mediocrity." Or, when I have given him bad news, "I am for for everything that happens to you, as everything is my fault." He never ends with anything that couldn't one day be construed as a tragic yet comic last word. — Scaachi Koul

Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones.
Papa was an accordion!
But his bellows were all empty.
Nothing went in and nothing came out. — Markus Zusak

A small sample of some girl-written words
That summer was a new beginning, a new end.
When I look back, I remember my slippery hands of paint and the sound of Papa's feet on Munich Street, and I know that a small piece of the summer of 1942 belonged to only one man. Who else would do some paintwork for the price of half a cigarette? That was Papa, that was typical, and I loved him. — Markus Zusak

These days I think the composers of music influence me more than any photographers or visual creators. I see something exciting or lovely and think to myself: 'If Papa Haydn or Wolfgang Amadeus or the red-headed Vivaldi were here with a camera, they'd snap a picture of what's in front of me.' So I take the picture for them. — Ralph Steiner

What we want most is only to be held ... and told ... that everything (everything is a funny thing, is baby milk and Papa's eyes, is roaring logs on a cold morning, is hoot-owls and the boy who makes you cry after school, is Mama's long hair, is being afraid, and twisted faces on the bedroom wall) ... everything is going to be all right. — Truman Capote

I," she [the Holy Spirit] opened her hands to include Jesus and Papa, "I am a verb. I am that I am. I will be who I will be. I am a verb! I am alive, dynamic, ever active and moving. I am a being verb. And as my very essence is a verb, I am more attuned to verbs than nouns. Verbs such as confessing, repenting, living, loving, responding, growing, reaping, changing, sowing, running, dancing, singing, and on and on. Humans, on the other hand, have a knack for taking a verb that is alive and full of grace and turning it into a dead noun or principle that reeks of rules. Nouns exist because there is a created universe and physical reality, but the universe is only a mass of nouns, it is dead. Unless 'I am' there are no verbs and verbs are what makes the universe alive. — Wm. Paul Young

Was that a bad lady, Papa?" Francis asked eagerly.
"No."
"But she looked bad."
"There are very few bad people. There are just a lot of people who are unlucky. — Betty Smith

Directly after God in heaven comes a Papa. — Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

So, Henrik, is the weather good for fishing?" Papa asked cheerfully, and listened briefly. Then he continued, "I'm sending Inge to you today with the children, and she will be bringing you a carton of cigarettes. "Yes, just one," he said, after a moment. Annemarie couldn't hear Uncle Henrik's words. "But there are a lot of cigarettes available in Copenhagen now, if you know where to look," he went on, "and so there will be others coming to you as well, I'm sure." But it wasn't true. Annemarie was quite certain it wasn't true. Cigarettes were the thing that Papa missed, the way Mama missed coffee. He complained often - he had complained only yesterday - that there were no cigarettes in the stores. — Lois Lowry

You look very handsome, Papa," I say.
The twinkle is back in his eyes. "Smoke and mirrors," he says with a wink. "Smoke and mirrors. — Libba Bray

No wonder Mama went away in her head when Clover passed on. And then Papa. I am going to visit my Mama tomorrow and tell her I am sorry for everything I ever did that caused her sorrow or worry, and for ever wishing, during those days, that she would come back. She probably wanted to stay there. It's a wonder she came back at all. If I knew how to make myself go away in my head, I declare I would. — Nancy E. Turner

It is a hard thing to let your children near danger, and yet, I remember my Papa teaching me to fire a rifle before I could even hold it with my own strength. And if he hadn't trusted me to be careful, I would have never had faith in myself to do it. — Nancy E. Turner

I couldn't wait to get out of the car. The first thing I did was smell the air. I closed my eyes and took a breath, the biggest breath of my life, knowing I was taking the biggest breath of my life. I was taking a breath to smell Shepelevo. Breathing in Shepelevo was like hitting the right note on the piano. There was only one right note. When I was young, Shepelevo was the smell of nettles, of salted smoked fish, of fresh water from the Gulf of Finland, and of burning firewood, all wrapped up in one Shepelevo. As it had been, so it was. Across two continents, a dozen countries, twenty cities, three colleges, two marriages, three children, three books, and twenty-five years of another life, I breathed it and smelled the air. Nowhere else in the world had it. "Papa," I said, my voice breaking. "Do you think we could photograph the smell?" He gave me a look and then laughed. — Paullina Simons

Papa was no longer fixing a carburetor: he was setting up a greasy little Cuban missile base smack-dab in the middle of Mama's immaculate Washington, D.C. It was a flagrant act of war. — David James Duncan

Did you learn?"
The face in the corner watched the flames. "I did." There was a considerable pause. "Until I was nine. At that age, my mother sold the music studio and stopped teaching. SHe kept only the one instrument but gave up on me not long after I resisted the learning. I was foolish."
"No," Papa said. "You were a boy. — Markus Zusak

Tatiana heard Alexander say, "Don't bother with shots. Pour mine straight into a glass." "Good man," said Papa, pouring him a glass. — Paullina Simons

I filled in for Papa Roach because we weren't doing much. Unwritten Law had a few more shows booked, but I got the call to fill in again at the end of the year. I was like, "I have to make myself available to these guys." — Tony Palermo

It's not a pretty world, Papa.'
'I've noticed,' my father said softly. — Chaim Potok

From a memory deep inside her, so faint it only held sounds and slips of color, a tiny, three-year-old Azalea wailed, "Papa."
"Papa," said Azalea to the lifeless form of the King. The word was so forgein, it choked her throat. "Papa ... you can't leave us, Papa ... It would be very ... out of order-"
Bramble knelt opposite her, grasping the King's bandaged hand.
"She's-she's right, Papa," Bramble stuttered. "We have ... rules ... "
Clover fell to her knees and pressed her handkerchief to his chest. Blood soaked through.
"Papa," she whispered.
The girls knelt around the King, their skirts spead out like forlorn blossoms, swallowing , and whispering one word.
"Papa."
"Papa."
"Papa. — Heather Dixon

A monster. I despise my true form. (Acheron)
I can't imagine why. Other than killing me, you were actually cute in a very Papa Smurf kind of way. (Tory)
Papa Smurf? I don't look like Papa Smurf. (Acheron)
No, baby, you don't at all. You look like sex on a stick. Now is your ego all better? (Tory) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I've been waiting for word from my parents - waiting and hoping - and finally letters arrive. But before I even have a chance to open them and find out what Mama and Papa think is best for me to do about my feelings for you, you come along and - " Thad had heard enough. She obviously had no inkling how frightened he'd been. He might have lost her. And he hadn't yet told her how much he cared for her. Well, he wouldn't wait another second. But she wasn't in a state to listen to words. He'd have to show her. With a growl, Thad gathered Sadie in his arms. She let out a little squawk of surprise, but he cut it short with a firm, heartfelt, possessive kiss. — Kim Vogel Sawyer

Every bit of land is a Holy land, and every drop of water is Holy water, and every single child is a son or a daughter of the one Earth mama, and the one Earth papa. — Michael Franti

I am who I am firstly because of genetics, and, running a very close second, because of choices: ones my parents made, such as choosing to emigrate to America; ones their parents made, like my Papa Butler opting to ignore medical advice and instead warming my mum in the oven to keep her alive; and very conscious ones that I've made for myself. — John Barrowman

They used to say, 'If we find a good black player, we'll sign him.' They was lying. — Cool Papa Bell

Kalmar nodded. "I'm sorry, Papa. I wasn't strong enough."
"None of us are, lad. Me least of all." Esben smiled and took a rattling breath. "But it's weakness that the Maker turns to strength. Your fur is why you alone loved a dying cloven. You alone in all the world knew my need and ministered to my wounds." Esben pulled Kalmar closer and kissed him on the head. "And in my weakness, I alone know your need. Hear me, son. I loved you when you were born. I loved you when I wept in the Deeps of Throg. I loved you even as you sang the song that broke you. And I love you now in the glory of your humility. You're more fit to be the king than I ever was. Do you understand?"
Kalmar shook his head.
Esben smiled and shuddered with pain. "A good answer, my boy. Then do you believe that I love you?"
"Yes, sir. I believe you." Kalmar buried his face in his father's fur.
"Remember that in the days to come. Nia, Janner, Leeli - help him to remember. — Andrew Peterson

Son, you can't go around painting yourself black, you hear?"
"Why not, Papa?"
"Because they'll take you away."
"Why?"
"Because you shouldn't want to be like black people or Jewish people or anyone who is ... not us."
"Who are Jewish people?"
"You know my oldest customer, Mr. Kaufmann? Where we bought your shoes?"
"Yes."
"Well, he's Jewish."
"I didn't know that. Do you have to pay to be Jewish? Do you need a license?"
...
" ... you've got beautiful blond hair and big safe blue eyes. You should be happy with that; is that clear? — Markus Zusak

It was a gift," Angelo said. "From a friend." "A friend does not give a gun as a gift." Angelo walked into the room and sat down next to his father. "This one does," he said. "And what will you do with such a gift?" "It will remind me," Angelo said in a near whisper. "Of what?" Paolino's eyes searched the boy's face. "Of what I am without it, Papa. — Lorenzo Carcaterra

The street to my left was backed up with traffic and I watched the people waiting patiently in the cars. There was almost always a man and a women, staring straight ahead, not talking. It was, finally, for everyone, a matter of waiting. You waited and you waited- for the hospital, the doctor, the plumber, the madhouse, the jail, papa death himself. First the signal red, then the signal was green. The citizens of the world ate food and watched t.v. and worried about their jobs or lack of the same, while they waited. — Charles Bukowski

Giving Papa time to think, as Arty put it, was like pumping random rounds into a fireworks factory. The odds favored dramatic results. — Katherine Dunn

Every business decision I ever made I learned from my grandfather Papa Sam. He moved here from Russia when he was a boy. He worked his way up selling newspapers and ladies' handbags, and eventually, he became Cadillac Sam, one of the biggest car dealers in Chicago. — Bobbi Brown

Up or down, it seemed to us that we were always going toward something terrible that had existed before us yet had always been waiting for us, just for us. When you haven't been in the world long, it's hard to comprehend what disasters are at the origin of a sense of disaster: maybe you don't even feel the need to. Adults, waiting for tomorrow, move in a present behind which is yesterday or the day before yesterday or at most last week: they don't want to think about the rest. Children don't know the meaning of yesterday, or the day before yesterday, or even of tomorrow, everything is this: the street is this, the doorway is this, the stairs are this, this is Mamma, this is Papa, this is the day, this is the night. — Elena Ferrante

My son, Arzhel, is two, and he eats vegetables twice a day. We have a vegetable garden on our farm in the Southwest, and he gets two baskets, one over each arm, and says, 'Garden, Papa!' and then he eats what he picks. — Alain Ducasse

Winter is not here yet. There's a little flower, up yonder, the last bud from the multitude of bluebells that clouded those turf steps in July with a lilac mist. Will you clamber up and pluck it to show papa? — Emily Bronte

If you want to grow up to be a big, strong pea, you have to eat your candy, Papa Pea would say. — Amy Krouse Rosenthal

He ran his knuckles over her cheek as their gazes met and held. So much. He had been given so much.
The sound of their daughters' high-pitched laughter drew their gazes away from each other nd toward their children. The girls came running toward them, breathless and excited. Their hair was messed in tousled disarray, their gowns were smeared with dirt, their skin was flushed and rosy. They leaped onto the blanket, tumbling over each other like exuberant puppies as they wrapped their chubby arms about his neck. "Papa, Papa, we want a new game!"
Morgan thought for a moment, overcome with a profound sense of gratitude.
Of all he had been given, perhaps the most significant gift was a deep reverence for life, with all its pain and all its glory. Every loss had meaning. And every day was a new
reason for celebration. — Victoria Lynne

Mama's gaze pierced her. As a girl, Minerva had envied her mother's blue eyes. They'd seemed the color of tropical oceans and cloudless skies. But their color had faded over the years since Papa's death. Now their blue was the hue of dyed cambric worn three seasons. Or brittle middle-class china. The color of patience nearly worn through. — Tessa Dare

Why did you do that, Pedro? It will look ridiculous, you agreeing to marry Rosaura. What happened to the eternal love you swore to Tita? Aren't you going to keep that vow?'
'Of course I'll keep it. When you're told there's no way you can marry the woman you love, and your only hope of being near her is to marry her sister, wouldn't you do the same?'
'So you intend to marry without love?'
'No, Papa. I am going to marry with a great love for Tita that will never die. — Laura Esquivel

**** A 2 A.M. CONVERSATION****
"Is this yours?"
"Yes, Papa."
"Do you want to read it?"
Again, "Yes,Papa."
A tired smile.
Metallic eyes, melting.
"Well, we'd better read it, then. — Markus Zusak

The bar was meant to look like a place where Hemingway might have hung out in the Bahamas. A stuffed swordfish hung on the wall, and fishing nets dangled from the ceiling. There were lots of photographs of people posing with giant fish they had caught, and there was a portrait of Hemingway. Happy Papa Hemingway. The people who came here were apparently not concerned that the author later suffered from alcoholism and killed himself with a hunting rifle. — Haruki Murakami

If there's no Scripture in the worship set, then it's not really a worship set. — Matt Papa

Tell your papa I'll call upon him soon. Mr. Jefferson is still very much needed here in Paris, where his revolution remains undone. In my study, I have a copy of his Declaration of Independence in half a frame. The other half of the frame is empty. One day, with his help, it will house a Declaration of French Rights and they'll stand side by side, like proud brothers. Like France and America. Like your father and me." Ordinarily, — Stephanie Dray