mother

Horror immobolizes us because it is made of contradictory feelings: fear and seduction, repulsion and attraction. Horror is a fascination...Horror is immobility, the great yawn of empty space, the womb and the hole in the earth, the universal Mother and the great garbage heap...With horror we cannot have recourse to flight or combat, there remains only Adoration or Exorcism.

Nothingness is the basis of everything that exists today. It's the mother of creation & consciousness!

Female say Pack Leader stop,_ Pack Leader said angrily.__hat?_ Caine could make no sense of it till he saw Diana striding up, dark hair flying, eyes furious.__ told this filthy beast to stop,_ Diana said, barely controlled.__top what?_ Caine demanded.__hey__e still attacking the kids,_ Diana said. __e__e won. Sam is dead. Call them off, Caine.__aine turned his attention back to the battle between Drake and the monster. __hey__e coyotes,_ Caine said coldly.Diana flew at him. __ou__e lost your mind, Caine. This has to stop. You__e won. This has to stop.___r what, Diana? Or what?_ Caine demanded. __o get Lana. I__ hurt. Pack Leader, do what you want.___aybe this is why your mother abandoned you,_ Diana said savagely. __aybe she could see that you weren__ just bad, you were twisted and sick and evil.

My old man's a white old manAnd my old mother's black.If ever I cursed my white old manI take my curses back.If ever I cursed my black old motherAnd wished she were in hell,I'm sorry for that evil wishAnd now i wish her wellMy old man died in a fine big houseMy Ma died in a shack.I wonder were i'm going to die,Being neither white nor black?

I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room

A misadventurer's greatest fear is their mother.

An indoor man eats nothing, except that which is prepared and served by his mother with lots of insults, an outdoor man eats that which he buys, prepares, served and eaten with lots of respect.

I sit quietly and think about my mom. It's funny how memory erodes, If all I had to work from were my childhood memories, my knowledge of my mother would be faded and soft, with a few sharp memories standing out.

The only person who worries about my mother is God, and that's only because she wants His job.

one of the best and the most painful things about time traveling has been the opportunity to see my mother alive.

He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark.

I lovehow grown childrenwill still nametheir mothersthe mostbeautiful.It isas though,their eyeshave met the cascadingcurvesand goldensilhouettesof every woman.Yettheir soulsstilldrumto the beat_ of theirmother'swarmth and care.

Mom lies down next to me and we both stare at the ceiling in complete silence. __oys are like candy,_ she suddenly says. I grin. __eally, Mom? That__ your advice? Boys are like candy. What is that? Forrest Gump on teens?

If you__e raced home after working ten-hour days to get dinner on the table every night for twenty years_you deserve more than absolution from guilt and the kindness you__ give freely to anyone else. You deserve a gold medal.

Everybody else cain't be wrong all the time. Sometimes it's gotta be you.

From then on, I was terrified that I or one of my parents were going to die. My mother worried me the most. She was the force around which our world turned. Unlike our father, who spent his life in the clouds, my mother was propelled through the universe by the brute force of reason. She was the judge in all of our arguments. One disapproving word from her was enough to send us off to hide in a corner, where we would cry and fantasize our own martyrdrom. And yet. One kiss could restore us to princedom. Without her, our lives would dissolve into chaos.

A warm feeling fell over the boy. A mix of security and comfort, as if a blanket were wrapping its soft layers around his heart and nuzzling him snuggly. Gavin loved his mother, and he would be forever grateful to his father for protecting her. The whole mystery behind it made him itch with curiosity, however.

My mother believed in all superstitions, plus she made some up.