no, no, it's not all random, if it really was all random, the universe would abandon us completely. and the universe doesn't. it takes care of its most fragile creations in ways we can't see. like with parents who adore you blindly. and a big sister who feels guilty for being human over you. and a little gravelly-voiced kid whose friends have left him over you. and even a pink-haired girl who carries your picture in her wallet. maybe it is a lottery, but the universe makes it all even out in the end. the universe takes care of all its birds.

All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.

"Parents have this twisted belief that anyone under the age of about twenty simply can't know what love is, like the age to love is assessed in the same way the law assesses the legal age to drink. They think that the 'emotional growth' of a teenager's mind is too underdeveloped to understand love, to know if it's 'real' or not.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her, and not in the complicated way I loved our parents, but in a simple way I never had to think about. I loved her like breathing.

She knew whose love she doubted. It wasn't her parents' and it wasn't her friends: It was her own.

"And when she at last came out, her eyes were dry. Her parents stared up from their silent breakfast at her. They both started to rise but she put a hand out, stopped them. 'I can care for myself, please,' and she set about getting some food. They watched her closely.

That's the nature of being a parent, Sabine has discovered. You'll love your children far more than you ever loved your parents, and -- in the recognition that your own children cannot fathom the depth of your love -- you come to understand the tragic, unrequited love of your own parents.

God is love," she said. "And he respects love, whether it's between a parents, and child, a man and woman, or friends. I don't think he cares about religion one little bit. Live your life right. Love with all your heart. Don't hurt others, and help those in need. That is all you need to know. And don't worry about heaven. If it exists, you'll be welcome.

I love my parents' murderer; I suppose I could love anyone.

It was the pure Language of the World. It required no explanation, just as the universe needs none as it travels through endless time. What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. He was more certain of it than of anything in the world. He had been told by his parents and grandparents that he must fall in love and really know a person before becoming committed. But maybe people who felt that way had never learned the universal language. Because, when you know that language, it's easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city. And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and the future become unimportant. There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only. It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the world. Without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning.

My parents danced together, her head on his chest. Both had their eyes closed. They seemed so perfectly content. If you can find someone like that, someone who you can hold and close your eyes to the world with, then you're lucky. Even if it only lasts for a minute or a day. The image of them gently swaying to the music is how I picture love in my mind even after all these years.

Parents were the only ones obligated to love you; from the rest of the world you had to earn it.

Chum was a British boy's weekly which at the end of the year was bound into a single huge book and the following Christmas parents bought it as Christmas presents for male children.

Orphans dead parents lonely children at Christmas morose spoken word recordings everything you love about the holidays. Move the turkey over so you can fit your head in the oven.

It is never too late to get into tennis! While I started playing at the age of 8 when my parents gave me a tennis racquet for Christmas tennis is a lifelong sport that can be enjoyed by people of almost any age. It's also something you never forget once you learn.

My parents still treat Christmas like I'm thirteen years old.

When I was five my parents bought me a ukulele for Christmas. I quickly learned how to play it with my father's guidance. Thereafter my father regularly taught me all the good old fashioned songs.

I think the one thing this picture shows that's new is the psychological disproportion of the kids' demands on the parents. Parents are often at fault but the kids have some work to do too.

Wisdom stands at the turn in the road and calls upon us publicly but we consider it false and despise its adherents.

Most kids don't get to go their parents' wedding.

My parents put everything in a trust fund for me. I won't get it until I'm 18 so I'll use it for college.

I wish my parents hadn't made me feel that how I looked was linked to how much they loved me. But I do also see how hard it must be to see your child pile on the pounds and trust they'll find their own way back to a healthy weight.

I love actors both my parents were actors and the work with actors is the most enjoyable part of making a film. It's important that they feel protected and are confident they won't be betrayed. When you create that atmosphere of trust it's in the bag - the actors will do everything to satisfy you.

I got the travel bug when I was quite young. My parents took me and my sisters out of school and we travelled all over Europe. It was an eye-opening experience and although I love Norway I also enjoy visiting new countries. I don't get homesick.