Ma Boy Quotes & Sayings

To the generations of Americans raised since World War 2, the identities of criminals such as Charles "Pretty Boy" Floyd, Baby Face Nelson, "Ma" Barker, John Dillenger, and Clyde Barrow are no more real than are Luke Skywalker and Indiana Jones. After decades spent in the washing machine of popular culture, their stories have been bled of all reality, to an extent that few Americans today know who these people actually were, much less that they all rose to national prominence at the same time. They were real. — Bryan Burrough

By mid-summer only Ma Barker remained in Chicago, lost in her jigsaw puzzles. Karpis drove over to visit her one weekend and found she was doing surprisingly well. He and Dock took her to see a movie. To their horror, the film was preceded by a newsreel warning moviegoers to be on the lookout for Dillinger, Nelson, Pretty Boy Floyd, Karpis, and the Barkers. Karpis scrunched low in his seat as their pictures flashed on the screen. "One of these men may be sitting next to you," the announcer said. Karpis pulled his hat low over his forehead. — Bryan Burrough

Miss Annie, is it wrong for me to believe it was Jesus who asked my forgiveness?" I asked her.
She frowned and shook her head, "Lord, what do they teach you at that school?" she said. Then she faced me head-on. "Did God humble himself by becoming a man?" she asked, every word spoken more loudly than the one before.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never used the word ma'am before, but it seemed an excellent time to start.
"Did he humble himself by dying on the cross to show us how much he loved us? she asked, waving her spatula at me.
My eyes widened and I nodded, yes.
Miss Annie's body relaxed, and she put her hand on her hip. "So why wouldn't Jesus humble himself and tell a boy he was sorry for letting him down if he knew it would heal his heart?" she asked.
"But if Jesus is perfect
"
Miss Annie ambled the five or six feet that separated us and took my hand. "Son," she said, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb, "love always stoops. — Ian Morgan Cron

To her complete surprise, Robbie wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his cheek against her apron. He smelled of sunshine, river water, and sun-warmed blackberries. Ada's eyes filled. "I'm sorry about your ma and pa. And I'm sorry I made you sad." It was easy to see why Wyatt set such store by this boy. He was a treasure. She held him by the shoulders and smiled into his bright blue eyes. "You are a wonderful boy, Robbie Whiting, and I can never be sad when you're around." He smiled, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. — Dorothy Love

Any fool can choose the boy who sends her heart into a flurry. But there's a big deep divide between desire and devotion. You better not choose the boy who makes you dizzy. No, ma'am. You have to choose the one who is steady. Stable. Safe. Choose the one who loves you, through and through, for who you really are. The one who wouldn't change a single thing about you, even if he could. — Julie Cantrell

Her bone-white face lit up like she was at a surprise party. "Hear that, Dwyer? He called me ma'am! Stay forever if you want, big guy. Teach my son a thing or two about manners."
"He's good people," Kyle said. "Always has been."
It was the last thing I wanted to hear at that moment. "I'm not always good," I shot back.
"Ooooo, polite and a bad boy," Gina cooed. "Watch out, ladies. — Aaron Starmer

You're welcome, ma'am.
My head whips up at the ma'am.
Not that I haven't heard that word spilled like sticky sweet syrup from a thousand mouths of a thousand boys who've been born and bred to use it everyday.
There's something about this boy, the way that word just slides off his tongue, buoyed with cautious respect and elegant pleasure.
Like he loves saying the word.
Like his lips weigh the worth of it. — Liz Reinhardt

Don't say nothin' wotever about it, ma'am,' replied Sam. 'I only assisted natur, ma'am; as the doctor said to the boy's mother, after he'd bled him to death. — Charles Dickens

Oh, Doctor, if you need a real good woman, you won't find a better lady than our teacher." "That so?" "Yep. Teacher . . . well, she really cares for us. And I just know she'd make a great ma someday." "Thank you, son." The boy nodded solemnly, as if he'd just done Eli the greatest of favors. Dr. Baldwin coughed. And once the boys were gone, Eli turned to look at his old friend. "What?" "Oh, nothing. — Jody Hedlund

Well ... maybe I can sneak out for a few minutes," Bird said, lowering his voice. And then Greg heard him shout to his mother: "It's no one, Ma! I'm talking to no one!"
Boy, that's quick thinking! Greg thought sarcastically. He's a worse liar than I am.
And then he heard Bird call to his mom: "I know I'm on the phone. But I'm not talking to anyone. It's only Greg."
Thanks a lot, pal, Greg thought. — R.L. Stine

He was still a boy, but there was steel in him. The eyes into which she looked now were cool, but they were eyes strangely mature. I reckon I'll stay, ma'am. Down where I come from, we don't back water for no man. — Louis L'Amour

Hey ma, your bad boy did good! — Rocky Graziano

What have paupers to do with soul or spirit? It's quite enough that we let 'em have live bodies. If you had kept the boy on gruel, ma'am, this would never have happened.' 'Dear, dear!' ejaculated Mrs. Sowerberry, piously raising her eyes to the kitchen ceiling: 'this comes of being liberal! — Charles Dickens

When one looks back across a chasm of seventy years, through a prism of pulp fiction and bad gangster movies, there is a tendency to view the events of 1933-34 as mythic, as folkloric. To the generations of Americans raised since World War II, the identities of criminals such as Charles "Pretty Boy" Floyd, Baby Face Nelson, "Ma" Barker, John Dillinger, and Clyde Barrow are no more real than are Luke Skywalker or Indiana Jones. After decades spent in the washing machine of popular culture, their stories have been bled of all reality, to an extent that few Americans today know who these people actually were, much less that they all rose to national prominence at the same time. — Bryan Burrough

EMMETT (on being a 'mama's boy'): Poppy teases me for being a mama's boy. She ain't wrong, but my ma's worth acting stupid over. She raised me in a rough world without losing her ability to be tender. — Bijou Hunter

Hey, Ma, your bad boy done it! — Rocky Graziano

Eve turned away as a whispered "yes, ma'am" reached her ears. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Why was she saving this asshole? Eve opened her eyes and unlocked the heavy steel bolt securing the five-by-two slab of oak. She looked back, ready to give him the signal to haul ass, when all the air punched from her lungs.
Naked.
It was the only word her stunned mind could form. Eve spun in place, and her rear bumped against the door. Guerin stood there, completely nude, with his briefs and coat in his grip.
"W-wh-what are you doing?" Dear God, she was stuttering like a young girl who'd never seen "boy parts" before. — Jessica Lee

What's your name, Farm Boy?"
"Charlie Heggensford, ma'am." He stuck out his hand and she smiled as she shook it. — Hank Edwards

I remember when I was 11, I told my mom, 'One day I'm going to buy you a house.' And she said, 'Boy, don't you be making promises you can't keep.' I was like: 'No, Ma, it's not a promise. I'm going to buy you a house one day.' — Will.i.am

So we believe. Leo has to be alive." "You remember the time in Detroit, when he flattened Ma Gasket with a car engine?" "Or those dwarfs in Bologna. Leo took them down with a homemade smoke grenade made from toothpaste." "Commander Tool Belt," Jason said. "Bad Boy Supreme," Piper said. "Chef Leo the Tofu Taco Expert." They laughed and told stories about Leo Valdez, their best friend. — Rick Riordan

Things did get better after that, though never like they were before the small blue baby boy was put into the earth. Catherine's mother wasn't a girl anymore, singing at any chance like she used to. She was old with a young face, walking slowly and watching the trees when she could stop and lean on her broom. Catherine thought that her brother was always with her ma, never quite letting her go, and it made her ma tired to carry him, too. — Rachel Devenish Ford

Mrs. Steadman, do you have a first name?" The question had taken her aback, and she had stammered out, "Well, of course I do. It's Summer." The boy's eyes had widened. "Summer? I like that name." She had shared the reason for her unusual name, watching his eyebrows rise. When she was finished, he had exclaimed, "You're like me, then. You don't have a ma, either." She had shaken her head. "No, I don't." Abruptly, he had turned the conversation back to her name. "May I call you Summer? When it's just us, I mean? Not in front of Rupert. — Kim Vogel Sawyer

Are you being a good boy for your mum?"
Conor's grandma pinched Conor's cheeks so hard he swore she was going to draw blood.
"He's been very good, Ma," Conor's mother said, winking at him from behind his grandma, her favorite blue scarf tied around her head. "So there's no need to inflict quite so much pain. — Patrick Ness