Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later... that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. ~Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities
There is still no cure for the common birthday. ~John Glenn
In childhood, we yearn to be grown-ups. In old age, we yearn to be kids. It just seems that all would be wonderful if we didn't have to celebrate our birthdays in chronological order. ~Robert Brault, www.robertbrault.com
One father is more than a hundred Schoolemasters. ~George Herbert, Outlandish Proverbs, 1640
Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act. ~Truman Capote
It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons. ~Johann Schiller
Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope. ~Bill Cosby
Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional. ~Chili Davis
One father is more than a hundred Schoolemasters. ~George Herbert, Outlandish Proverbs, 1640
He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
In childhood, we yearn to be grown-ups. In old age, we yearn to be kids. It just seems that all would be wonderful if we didn't have to celebrate our birthdays in chronological order. ~Robert Brault, www.robertbrault.com
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
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