My father felt that his world of ideas was too liberal for traditional rabbinical teachings, and he looked for a chance to find a way in life.
It (a baseball box score) doesn't tell how big you are, what church you attend, what color you are, or how your father voted in the last election. It just tells what kind of baseball player you were on that particular day.
I sacrificed my anonymity for my father, whereas he sacrificed me for his fame.
My father who was there in the house, he wasn't at all a role model. And my mother, who was trying to protect me from him as best she could, she took me everywhere with her, which gave me a tremendous amount of sensitivity to the things women go through.
We hail the return of the day of thy birth, Fair Columbia! washed by the waves of two oceans Where men from the farthest dominions of earth Rear altars to Freedom, and pay their devotions; Where our fathers in fight, nobly strove for the Right, Struck down their fierce foemen or put them to flight; Through the long lapse of ages, that so there might be An asylum for all in the Land of the Free.
It was not always easy because I was always an individual and found it difficult to be one of a group. One person who was very supportive was my father. My mother was great but my father really recognised my individuality and supported me in that
Success has many fathers; failures have none.
We are not a nation, so much as a world; for unless we claim all the world for our sire, like Melchisedec, we are without father or mother.
Discernment is the son of good judgment and the father of self-control. When mixed with an already clear conscience, the ability to read the true motives of a critic keeps one's conscience both clear and at ease.
God our Father has made all things depend on faith so that whoever has faith will have everything, and whoever does not have faith will have nothing
We were told that they wished merely to pass through our country. . . to seek for gold in the far west. . . Yet before the ashes of the council are cold, the Great Father is building his forts among us. . . . His presence here is. . . an insult to the spirits of our ancestors. Are we then to give up their sacred graves to be allowed for corn?
Our family was on the lunatic fringe. My mother was always completely irrepressible. My father made crowd noises into a microphone.
I would say the only one person I know of who kind of combines the elements that my father brought to the table in terms of affecting the public discourse would be Oliver Stone. His combination of academic brilliance and real life experience and just understanding people I think is what makes him such a great storyteller, but also he cares. He is interested. He meets somebody and he listens to them. He has some questions. He wants to know what they're about. And as a result I think his worldview is much more complex and whole and most of the other.
What I've learned much about myself by now is as the quality and discipline of my quiet time with the Lord goes, so goes the rest of my life. Whether or not I'm staying in the Word daily decides how I respond to conflict, what kind of dad and father I am, and every other aspect of my life. That's probably why Satan seems to daily distract me from that most essential thing on my to do list: spend time with God.
When I was about five or seven years old my mother was placed in a mental institution and so we were with our father who worked very hard, and we had to figure a lot of things out.
It's wrenching enough to lose the man who is your lover, your companion, your best friend, the father of your children, without losing yourself as well.
Music is like a river or stream that has come down to us through time, bringing nurture to man's soul. From the past masters, this music flowed to my father and through him to me. I want to keep this stream flowing. I don't want it to die. It must spread all over the world.
My old man was a musician - that's what he did for a living. And like most fathers, occasionally he'd let me visit where he worked. So I started going to his recording studio, and I really dug it.
When I was a kid, I always saw these pictures of a man called Bob Gordon with a baritone saxophone, who I understood was my father. Turns out he wasn't. He was my mother's first husband.
The Lion King always makes me cry, especially when Simba's father gets trampled.