Don’t poets know it, Better than others? God can’t be always everywhere: and, so, Invented Mothers. by SIR EDWIN ARNOLD
Mothers hold their children’s hands for a short while, but their hearts forever.
The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness. by HONORÉ DE BALZAC
Insanity is hereditary. You get it from your children. by SAM LEVENSON
A mother is a person who, seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie. by TENNEVA JORDAN
And remember that behind every successful woman is a basket of dirty laundry.
The mother’s heart is the child’s schoolroom.by HENRY WARD BEECHER
No gift to your mother can ever equal her gift to you–life.
Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn; Hundreds of lambs in the purple clover; Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn; But only one mother the wide world over. by GEORGE COOPER
Mother–that was the bank where we deposited all our hurts and worries.by T. DEWITT TALMAGE
I remember my mother’s prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life. by ABRAHAM LINCOLN
A man loves his sweetheart the most, his wife the best, but his mother the longest. by IRISH PROVERB
Now that … my kids are grown, I understand how much work and love it takes to raise and to keep a family together. The example of your strength, devotion, and patience is now rippling through the generations. Thank you! by FOREST HOUTENSCHIL
Biology is the least of what makes someone a mother. by OPRAH WINFREY
A mom’s hug lasts long after she lets go.
Who ran to help me when I fell, And would some pretty story tell, Or kiss the place to make it well? My mother. by ANN TAYLOR
On Mother’s Day I have written a poem for you. In the interest of poetic economy and truth, I have succeeded in concentrating my deepest feelings and beliefs into two perfectly crafted lines: You’re my mother, I would have no other! by FOREST HOUTENSCHIL
Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children. by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY
A man’s work is from sun to sun, but a mother’s work is never done.
The sweetest sounds to mortals given Are heard in Mother, Home, and Heaven. by WILLIAM GOLDSMITH BROWN