You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also,
and he praiseth her.
Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also,
and he praiseth her.
Being a full-time mother is one of the highest salaried jobs... since the payment is pure love.
Being a full-time mother is one of the highest salaried jobs... since the payment is pure love.
Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the read more
Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well/
My mother.
Happy he
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all read more
Happy he
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high
Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall,
He shall not blind his soul with clay.
At the cross, her station keeping,
Stood the mournful mother, weeping,
Where He hung, the dying Lord.
read more
At the cross, her station keeping,
Stood the mournful mother, weeping,
Where He hung, the dying Lord.
[Lat., Stabat mater, dolorosa
Juxta crucem lacrymosa
Que pendebat Filius.]
Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of children.
Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of children.
The bravest battle that ever was fought;
Shall I tell you where and when?
On the maps read more
The bravest battle that ever was fought;
Shall I tell you where and when?
On the maps of the world you will find it not;
It was fought by the mothers of men.
- Joaquin Miller (pseudonym of Cincinnatus Hiner Miller),
Fostering mother.
[Lat., Alma mater.]
Fostering mother.
[Lat., Alma mater.]
That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So read more
That it should come to this,
But two months dead, nay, not so much, not two,
So excellent a king, that was to this
Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth,
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on, and yet within a month--
Let me not think on't; frailty, thy name is woman--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father's body
Like Niobe, all tears, why she, even she--
O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourned longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules.