father

The question is not "can you wear your father's shoes?". The question is "can you walk in your father's shoes?". It is one thing having a mentor and it is another thing to become like your mentor.

Your help comes from the Lord God who made heaven, earth and you! Grab your mission; that's your father's assignment for you! No one can stop you from attaining success with the assignment your father gave you to do!

The table that cannot stand upright, is an insult to the carpenter who makes it. God made us perfectly; so when we refuse to carry out the functions we were created for, our father loses the glory He deserves!

Keep moving forward! You don't need permission from anyone in order to move on your own father's land! Go ahead and take the lead!

Behind every great man is a man greater, his father.

The amount of time we give to something indicates it's importance to us.

I know that when I read the Bible, my life is transformed. I think differently. I act differently. I talk differently.

A good leader will seek the wisdom of others. After all, no man is an island!

It embarrassed her, as a child, to think that her father had fallen in love, or, if men must love, then it should have been someone else, someone dark, mysterious and profoundly clever, not an ordinary person who was impatient for no reason and cross when one was late for lunch.

My dad once said... "Some friends are like "rubber wrappers"; they bind with you safely but get weaker when you stretch them too much". Treat your friends with care, else the elasticity of their love for you may not go lasting!

My mouth fell open in incredulity.__h, Maria. Are you trying to tell me you__e taken up the sport of fly-catching with your mouth?__os reached over and lifted my chin.__nd an assistant too. So that you don__ scare the little flies away. How wonderful; I didn__ realise it was a team sport. Interesting. Tell me, what do they taste like? I can__ imagine a fly filling any hole in your stomach. How many have you caught?___hat__ disgusting._ Ros screwed her face up.__y thoughts exactly.

She has no memories of her mother but imagines her as white, a soundless brilliance. Her father radiates a thousand colors, opal, strawberry red, deep russet, wild green; a smell like oil and metal, the feel of a lock tumbler sliding home, the sound of his key rings chiming as he walks.

Can you become a man without becoming your father?

One night when we were lying under the stars together she pointed to this beaming bright star beside the moon and said wherever she was in the world, whether we were together or apart, that I should remember her with that star because it would always be there-that it was her with me.

The sudden loss of her father was like living with a wound that would never heal, yet her memories of him were fading more and more every day.

Jeeter?" Grace whispered into her walkie-talkie. "Are you awake?" She waited.A few weeks ago, she and Jeeter had started chatting on their walkie-talkies late at night when she couldn't sleep. He always answered her call no matter how late it was."I'm here," his voice echoed back. "Trouble sleeping again?""Yeah.""Another bad dream?""Uh-huh," she sniffed, unexpected tears flooding her eyes. My dad was calling for me, but I couldn't find him." She couldn't believe she'd said it. She'd never told anyone what she saw in her dreams. But Jeeter understood. He'd told her before that he had bad dreams too, since his mom had died.

Nobility is a lie. A pretence that high standing comes from anything more than money or martial prowess. Any dolt can play the noble, and as you'll discover in time, daughter, it's mostly dolts who do.

Because the truth was, and we both knew it, he'd gone long, long ago. I'd just made him stick around when he really wanted to be somewhere else. In his own weird way, he was another victim of the shooting, One of the ones who couldn't get away. "Are you mad?" he asked, which I thought was a really strange question. "Yes," I said. And I was. It's just that I wasn't so sure I was mad at him. But I don't think he needed to hear that part. I don't think he wanted to hear that part. I think it was important to him to hear that I cared enough to be angry."Will you ever forgive me?" he asked."Will you ever forgive me?" I shot back, leveling my gaze directly into his eyes.He stared into them for a few moments then got up silently and headed for the door. He didn't turn around when he reached it. Just grabbed the doorknob and held it. "No," he said without facing me. "Maybe that makes me a bad parent, but I don't know if I can. No matter what the police found, you were involved in that shooting, Valerie. You wrote those names on that list. You wrote my name on that list. You had a good life here. You might not have pulled the trigger, but you helped cause the tragedy."He opened the door."I'm sorry. I really am." He stepped out into the hallway. "I'll leave my new address and phone number with your mother," he said before walking slowly out of my sight.