Top 33 Mummy Quotes

I’ve got a big mummy heart.

I’m actually a mummy’s boy.

My daughter Lila loves the smell of gasoline – she always says, ‘Mummy, keep the door open,’ when I’m filling up the car. I’ve heard it is one of the most preferred scents in the world – maybe that’s something to study for my next fragrance!

I’m excited about turning 40. I’ve been an adult for a long time, but there is a difference between being an adult and being a grown-up. I’m someone’s mummy now and I’m enjoying that. I feel as if I’m about to hit my peak.

I sounded like a fantasist at school when you’d go round the class, and they’d say, ‘What do Mummy and Daddy do?’ I was like, ‘Mummy’s an actress, and Daddy’s a musician, and he plays his guitar with Bonnie Tyler.’ And the teachers used to, like, roll their eyes, like, ‘She’s mental!’

When I turned 25, something changed in me. I see children in my future 100%. Soon. I started thinking I want my kids to look back and say, ‘Wasn’t Mummy amazing?’ I’ve really started thinking about what I’m leaving for them.

The radiation was worse by far. I had bandages all over my head. I looked like a mummy. On the side of my head and neck and down to my collarbone, I had second-degree burns. My skin blistered and peeled before it grew back. That was the worst part of it.

You can’t visit Guanajuato without going to the mummy museum.

I’m a proper mummy’s boy.

Strictly’s strength is its appeal to all the family. The greatest compliment I was paid during my stint was from a lady at Paddington station who told me that every time the programme came on her four-year-old son would demand: ‘Where’s that granny, Mummy? I want the granny to win.’

With ‘The Mummy’ it was a fantasy action adventure. You get taken away for a few hours and come out and feel revamped and ready to go into the world and enjoy your next day at work.

Beatrice loves her glamorous dresses and her hair being curly or big – like Mummy’s – and I hate volume. I like my hair to be sort of flat. I like just throwing on a pair of jeans and generally being more understated. She is more ‘Let’s do the glamour.’ We’re chalk and cheese.

Mummy, Bea and I call ourselves ‘the Tripod’ – they are my best friends in the world.

Mummy weighed sweets and nuts so that everyone would get exactly the same amount. During the year, everything is measured roughly, but at Christmas, it has to be absolutely fair. That’s why it’s such a strenuous time.

Mummy was absolutely the rock in my life. It was not that I didn’t love my father; he was such a quiet man, and she was not. She was the most vivid person I have ever known. She was accomplished and brave and fearless. She used to say to me, ‘I want you to be able to talk to anyone about anything.’

I’m a bit of a mummy’s boy.

When I started my ministerial job I brought my daughters into the Department, due to last-minute childcare complications. We had meetings throughout the day and the girls had to play outside the office while mummy went to ‘boring’ meetings.

Before every show, I would call my mother and say, ‘Mummy, I don’t know how I will sing today.’ But that would change as soon as I went on stage and would merge with my music. She is my best ally, and I don’t want to lose her. Nobody other than her would be concerned if I had eaten or had oiled my hair. She is my queen.

I’m a great mummy. I’ve mapped out all the fun spots in every city.

I’m still a mummy’s boy!

So many people of my generation all grew up with that shock theater package on television of ‘Frankenstein,’ ‘Wolfman,’ ‘Dracula,’ ‘Mummy,’ all the Universal stuff.

When I was five, I discovered a secret box that contained Mummy’s stage makeup. It was like finding buried treasure. I tried the rouge, the eye shadow, the lipstick. But I couldn’t get the rouge off. Mummy spanked me terribly.

My daughter, Lila, is my style critic. She’ll say, ‘No, Mummy, you can’t wear that.’ She’s very good. I do trust her instinct.

I could always escape into this demi-monde of homosexuality, which I feel really indebted to. It stopped me being a ‘mummy’s boy.’

Being a mummy is definitely my most favourite job of all, without a shadow of a doubt.

From a very young age, my dad did not have work, so mummy would look after the house. She would go and sing bhajans and do thumri performances to support the house.

If ‘Black Balloon’ had come out before ‘The Mummy,’ casting agents wouldn’t have been able to see me for the first time in ‘The Mummy.’ But now that ‘The Mummy’ has come out before ‘The Black Balloon,’ that’s a very good combination.

Those days of every child having a mummy and daddy who lived at home – Daddy went to work, and Mummy stayed at home and took care of everyone – those days have almost gone, and it’s so much more unconventional now.

I love a cardboard coffin. Both Mummy and Daddy went off in cardboard coffins, painted – Daddy’s was rifle green. Beautifully made.

Mind you, I’ve always been musical… Mother used to sit me on her knee and I’d whisper, ‘Mummy, Mummy, sing me a lullaby do,’ and she’d say: ‘Certainly my angel, my wee bundle of happiness, hold my beer while I fetch me banjo.’

I probably give 80% more to my children than my father gave to me and still it doesn’t come up to scratch. I don’t feel guilty about it. Do my children love me? I think that is self-evident. Will they have psychological scars? No, because they have a wonderful mummy.

I don’t fit into the yummy mummy box, I’m not a party girl anymore, I’m just me.

What must it be like for a little boy to read that daddy never loved mummy?