I’m not actually from Compton – I’m from South Central Los Angeles, and my father still lives in the same house I grew up in, so I’m there all the time.
With a Catholic mother and a Muslim father, I’ve always had a great interest in religion, but I’ve never practiced one myself. After I received a diagnosis of an aggressive form of leukemia at the age of 22, I put my faith in medicine.
My father was a great example of a strong and good man and Christian man, and my mother taught all my six sisters how to be young ladies and mothers and how to take care of your family. And so I think they were – they still are – great examples for all of us to their kids and to the world, too.
Around a third of parents still worry that they will look like a bad mother or father if their child has a mental health problem. Parenting is hard enough without letting prejudices stop us from asking for the help we need for ourselves and our children.
My life comes down to three moments: the death of my father, meeting my husband, and the birth of my daughter. Everything I did previous to that just doesn’t seem to add up to very much.
Our Father’s commitment to us, His children, is unwavering. Indeed He softens the winters of our lives, but He also brightens our summers.
Well, my first languages are German and Spanish because I was brought up by a Spanish mother and a German father, so I always spoke both languages at home. I’m very thankful that I was brought up in a bilingual house.
My mother gave me my drive but my father gave me my dreams.
In my life, I’m just looking for that life of integrity that my father had. I have a good heart; I’m not a heartbreaker.
We didn’t know that Mother had gone through a passionate love affair or that Father suffered from severe depression. Mother was preparing to break out of her marriage, Father threatening to take his own life.
My father has been a constant source of love and strength in my life.
My loyalty to my father had increased in proportion to the miles between us.
While it is important for people to see your promise you must also remember that hope is the keeper of both happiness and disappointment, the father of both progress and failure.
My father is a retired FBI agent. I have guns in my house. I’m not against the Second Amendment.
The human father has to be confronted and recognized as human, as man who created a child and then, by his absence, left the child fatherless and then Godless.
Oh, it is wonderful to know that our Heavenly Father loves us – even with all our flaws! His love is such that even should we give up on ourselves, He never will.
My mother and father were very strange people. They tried to be funny which is always very sad to me.
My elder brothers were all put apprentices to different trades. I was put to the grammar-school at eight years of age, my father intending to devote me, as the tithe of his sons, to the service of the Church.
My father was a politician. My grandfather was a politician too, maybe it’s an innate idea of representing people that we have in our family. I won’t go into politics. I think I can provide the voice for the voiceless through law.
If you don’t wake up and have your own thing, whether it’s writing or reading or traveling or acting or dancing or singing or being a mother or a father, something that drives you, then it’s all worth nothing. One of the key elements in happiness is purpose.
My mother was Catholic, my father was Protestant. There was always a debate going on at home – I think in those days we called them arguments – about who was right and who was wrong.
Mother Nature and Father Time have not been happy with me.
Do you not realize that the love the Father bestowed on the perfect Christ He now bestows on you?
My uncle was a second father to me. I spent most of my childhood with him.
I have respect for what other people believe. What I believe in my own life is that it’s a search for how I can do things better, whether it’s being a better man or a better father or finding ways for myself to improve.
My musical influence is really from my father. He was a DJ in college. My parents met at New York University. So he listened to, you know, Motown, and he listened to Bob Dylan. He listened to Grateful Dead and Rolling Stones, but he also listened to reggae music. And he collected vinyl.
Therefore, I do not wish to consider any proposition to cede any portion of our tribal holdings to the Great Father.
My father instilled in me to take care of my family. Show up even when you don’t want to show up.
My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
In 2001, my father finally succumbed to the bone cancer that had tortured him for seven years. His last weeks were a terrible, black icing on the cake, the agony, the slow twisting, thinning and snapping of his skeleton. Everything fell apart.
The only thing I have to go by is what my mother and father told me, how I was brought up.
My father’s money vanished in the Great Depression, and he had trouble keeping a job.
My father’s family is German and Czech.
My father pulled into Pearl Harbor four days after the bombing, and he said, everything was still burning. He said they never told the public how bad it was. It was really bad.
My father instilled in me – of utmost importance and innate in me is the yearning to determine for myself – to define God, to define holiness for myself.
When I attained my seventh year, my father, whose ear was unmusical but who was nevertheless passionately fond of music, gave me my elementary lessons on the violin; in a very few months, I was able to play all manner of compositions at sight.
The all-seeing eye of God beheld our deplorable state; infinite pity touched the heart of the Father of mercies; and infinite wisdom laid the plan of our recovery.
In the end, I still have the same hope as my father – that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the last word.
My father always says that heroism is in the Pashtun DNA.
Our Father which art in heaven – Stay there – And we will stay on earth – Which is sometimes so pretty.
My father would take me to the playground, and put me on mood swings.
I like to fish. I collect pocketknives. I inherited a nice collection from my father and grandfather.
Our Heavenly Father is pleased when we don’t compromise our faith and principles in times of desperation.
My father played baseball. That’s what I know to do. That’s my gift. God has given me the greatest gift. And that’s what I love to do.
I am a friend when I need to be a friend, a father when I need to be a father, a musician when music calls. I switch roles accordingly.
I don’t want to just revolve. I want to evolve. As a man, as a human, as a father, as a lover.
My father is Indonesian Timorese, my mother Aboriginal Australian.
I picked up the Puerto Rican accent from my father, and my sister picked up my mother’s very clear, concise, and slow Mexican-Spanish. So, when she does speak, she speaks with diction. She pronounces every word.
The place of the father in the modern suburban family is a very small one, particularly if he plays golf.
My great-grandfather Melvin had been a carpenter – so was my father – and they taught me the value of tools: saws, hammers, chisels, files and rulers. It all dealt with conciseness and precision. It eliminated guesswork. One has to know his tools, so he doesn’t work against himself.
My mother was American, and my father was from the Caribbean, and there was a big open door into the world of humanity and music.
Orrin Hatch is old enough to be my father, and I don’t want my father running the United States Senate Finance Committee.
I’ve been a loner all the time throughout my life… I haven’t been the best father… Many times… my children have accused me of not giving them enough attention. And, frankly, I never have been good at handling that.
I always wanted to be a surgeon, because I had a lot of admiration for my father, who is also a surgeon. I also wanted to be a heart surgeon. That was motivated by the fact that my young aunt, a sister of my dad, died in her early 20s of a correctable heart disease.
Because of my father, we are that Shining City on a Hill.
Father told me that if I ever met a lady in a dress like yours, I must look her straight in the eyes.
I wasn’t close to my father, but I wanted to be all my life. He had a funny sense of humor, and he laughed all the time – good and loud, like I do. He was a gay Irish gentleman and very good-looking. And he wanted to be close to me, too, but we never had much time together.
We looked up to our father. He still is much greater than us.
My father was the doyen of the divorce barristers. He was an extremely erudite and very famous divorce barrister. So that, when I was a little boy in the nursery, instead of a story like ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,’ I used to get ‘The Duchess and the Seven Correspondents.’
I’d love to romance Aishwarya Rai. But I’m 58 now. So I have to play her father.
