I love my boys. I love watching them growing up. I love seeing them develop, and I'm always looking forward to seeing what they're going to become and what they're going to be interested in later in life.
Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable.
I love my boys so much I fear my heart will explode. I wonder if this love will crack open my chest and split me in half. It is scary, this love.
Femi Fani Kayode is my boy. Provide him food, he will eat and then sing for you. He’s a smart boy
That's my ideal day, time with my boys.
Courage, my boy! that is the complexion of virtue.
When I wanted to be professionally known as a rapper I said I wanna take the moniker Gucci Mane. But all the people in my hood, not even my closest friends but everybody in Atlanta, calls me Guwop. I didn't start it. I can't put my finger on how it spread. I know it started from my boys but then everybody who I collaborate picked up on it and they'd say it to me.
He himself will go into the drain and take his boy in his own lap. He will clean his dress, clean his clothes, clean his body; and afterward he will say, "My boy, you should walk carefully."
You know, my boy, he said, it's impossible to love men such as they are. And yet we must. So try to do good to men by doing violence to your feelings, holding your nose, and shutting your eyes, especially shutting your eyes. Endure their villainy without anger, as much as possible; try to remember that you're a man too. For, if you're even a little above average intelligence, you'll have the propensity to judge people severely. Men are vile by nature and they'd rather love out of fear. Don't give in to such love: despise it always.
If there's one thing I've learned about women, which I try to pass on to my boys, it's listening. Listen to the other side of the story first.
Any kiddie in school can love like a fool, But Hating, my boy, is an Art.
A living doll, everywhere you look. It can sew, it can cook, It can talk, talk, talk. . . . My boy, it's your last resort. Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.
Winning isn't worthwhile unless one has something finer and nobler behind it. When I reach the soul of one of my boys with an idea, or ideal, or vision, then I have done my job as a coach.
My boy! Smoking is one of the greatest and cheapest enjoyments in life, and if you decide in advance not to smoke, i can only feel sorry for you.
Because French is the language of love, my boy. Something you should keep in mind, but will soon forget.
The field was even greener than my boy's mind had pictured it. In later years, friends of ours visited Ireland and said the grass there was plenty green all right, but that not even the Emerald Isle itself was as green as the grass that grew in Ebbets Field.
Love is a word that is constantly heard, Hate is a word that is not. Love, I am told, is more precious than gold. Love, I have read, is hot. But hate is the verb that to me is superb, And Love but a drug on the mart. Any kiddie in school can love like a fool, But Hating, my boy, is an Art.
Two of my boys are Manchester United fans; one is an Arsenal fan. Whenever there is a game I can take the boys to, I love taking them.
What shall I say of the gallantry with which these Marines have fought! Of the slopes of Hill 142; of the Mares Farm; of the Bois de Belleau and the Village of Bouresches stained with their blood, and not only taken away from the Germans in the full tide of their advance against the French, but held by my boys against counter attacks day after day and night after night. I cannot write of their splendid gallantry without tears coming to my eyes.
Always do I recall the parting words uttered by my old governor: "My boy, never . . ." I won't set 'em down. I disregarded them fool-like and paid, and paid; had I a son I'd hand 'em on and ram 'em home. What fools we be when young. We fancy we be wise, forgetting that the old boys have graduated in the 'varsity of the world, the greatest 'varsity of all, and each day we should learn from they.
Yet, for I know thou art religious And hast a thing within thee called conscience, With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies Which I have seen thee careful to observe, Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know An idiot holds his bauble for a god And keeps the oath which by that god he swears, To that I'll urge him: therefore thou shalt vow By that same god, what god soe'er it be, That thou adorest and hast in reverence, To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up, Or else I will discover naught to thee.
Ready? No one is ever ready, my boy. But some do what they plan to do and some never will. The difference between the two is that the first group understand that they need to start somewhere, so they do so. Straight away
From high Meonia's rocky shores I came, Of poor decsent, Acoetes is my name, My sire was measly born: no oxen ploughed, His fruitful fields, nor in his pastures lowed, His whole estate within the waters lay' With lines and hooks he caught the finny prey; His art was all his livelehood, which he Thus with his dying lips bequeathed to me: In streams, my boy, and rivers take thy chance; There swims', said he, Thy whole inheritance.
I know the type of demons they have to fight and I am going to help them, because it's the only way I can keep them from getting to my family. I have to clean up my friends because they are around my boys. It's upsetting.
'Come hither, my boy, tell me what thou seest there?' 'A fool tangled in a religious snare.'
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: