The only big things I've purchased are my dad's heart valve and a Rolls-Royce for my parents, for their anniversary. And that was only because my dad had a Lady Gaga license plate on our old car and it was making me crazy because he was getting followed everywhere, so I bought him a new car.

I built up so much hatred for my parents, like so much anger for the life they had given me.

For me, the interesting thing about anorexia is that you show your wound. There's no hiding it. So my anger and sense of disappointment, all the stuff I was out of touch with, became this visible rebuke to my parents.

We come from fallible parents who were kids once, who decided to have kids and who had to learn how to be parents. Faults are made and damage is done, whether it's conscious or not. Everyone's got their own 'stuff,' their own issues, and their own anger at Mom and Dad. That is what family is. Family is almost naturally dysfunctional.

In Afghan society, parents play a central role in the lives of their children; the parent-child relationship is fundamental to who you are and what you become and how you perceive yourself, and it is laden with contradictions, with tension, with anger, with love, with loathing, with angst.

I said that my parents had come from India. They thought America was a place where people were treated equally, and their kids would have an amazing life.

The first day I'm back from a tour, I have dinner with my parents. I sleep in my old bed. It's amazing.

When I was seven or eight years old, I began to read the science-fiction magazines that were brought by guests into my grandparents' boarding house in Waukegan, Illinois. Those were the years when Hugo Gernsback was publishing 'Amazing Stories,' with vivid, appallingly imaginative cover paintings that fed my hungry imagination.

I have amazing kids, an amazing husband, a fabulous career, wonderful parents. If I had to go through some rough spots to get to this amazing place, so be it.

I am definitely a Type A personality, always rushing around, trying to do too much, not good at just lying on the beach. But I'm so thankful for everything I have: wonderfully supportive parents and sisters, the best husband in the world, terrific students I love teaching and hanging out with, and above all, my two amazing daughters.

It's such an honor to just represent the U.S. in the country where my parents immigrated from, and just this whole process has been amazing, and this journey has been so fun and full of so many memories that I will hold on to for the rest of my life.

Since I was a kid, music has been a huge part of my life. My parents had a pretty solid vinyl collection and exposed me to some amazing artists.

I've moved to Australia, to amazing parents who gave me unconditional love, to being educated and submerged in an amazing country and society.

I grew up in a Christian home with amazing parents.

Remember that you own what happened to you. If your childhood was less than ideal, you may have been raised thinking that if you told the truth about what really went on in your family, a long bony white finger would emerge from a cloud and point to you, while a chilling voice thundered, "We *told* you not to tell." But that was then. Just put down on paper everything you can remember now about your parents and siblings and relatives and neighbors, and we will deal with libel later on.

It's impossible to say a thing exactly the way it was, because of what you say can never be exact, you always have to leave something out, there are too many parts, sides, crosscurrents, nuances; too many gestures, which could mean this or that, too many shapes which can never be fully described, too many flavors, in the air or on the tongue, half-colors, too many.

Go for broke. Always try and do too much. Dispense with safety nets. Take a deep breath before you begin talking. Aim for the stars. Keep grinning. Be bloody-minded. Argue with the world. And never forget that writing is as close as we get to keeping a hold on the thousand and one things--childhood, certainties, cities, doubts, dreams, instants, phrases, parents, loves--that go on slipping , like sand, through our fingers.

HOW TO LIVE AND HOW TO BEHAVE, THAT IS WHAT OUR PARENTS TAUGHT AND THAT IS WHY WE HAVE LEARNED TO LIVE IN THIS WORLD TODAY.

The best gift that a child can receive from their parents is a happy home and a thriving companionship between them. Of course, in some instances, the parents may choose to go their separate ways. Even so, harmonious co-parenting is still possible when both parents prioritize their child's wellbeing over their own interests!

I think that's the problem. Teenagers think their parents should have it all figured out, but the truth is, adults don't really know how to navigate life any better than teenagers do.

A parents wishes for their children shouldn't be to be as good as them but to surpass their own abilities and hopefully lead to a better world.

Children pay little attention to their parents' teachings, but reproduce their characters faithfully

The children were overwhelmingly morbid. Not a single adult asked me where butterflies go when they die, but this question was more popular than pixie sticks with the under-four-foot set. I cursed parents for not preparing their children. When I was five, my mother and sister sat me up on the kitchen counter and explained the facts of life: the Easter Bunny didn't exist, Elijah was God's invisible friend, with any luck Nana would die soon, and if I ever saw a unicorn, I should kill it or catch it for cash. I turned out okay.

The difference between growing up like me and growing up like Will was that wore his sense of entitlement lightly. I think if you grow up like he had done, with wealthy parents, in a nice house, if you go to good schools and nice restaurants as a matter of course, you just have this sense that good things will fall into place, that your position in the world is naturally an elevated one.