Jennifer Grant Quotes

The grief of losing my father has come in waves over the years, as it does with most people. His love and devotion as a father provided my closest, most intimate relationship. Dad, and our time together, is in my bones. While reflecting on him, the memories themselves seem to boil down into certain 'essences of Dad.'

At some level it's still hard for me to admit that my father died. I can talk about it and around it, but those two words. 'He died.' What can that possibly mean? That I won't get to hear his voice again?

I remember going on carriage rides with Dad when we'd visit. I think quiet L.A. suited him better, but he loved to see shows here, he loved to visit his friends in the Hamptons.

One of the myths about Dad was that he was mean. That simply wasn't true. I always found him generous to a fault but he wasn't reckless with his money, which was rather rare in Hollywood. He'd grown up with nothing and he wasn't about to fritter it all away.

Dad was synonymous with his charm and wit and grace, and it was sort of the perfect way to go for him.

I remember him reading 'Sleeping Beauty,' and he would play the score by Tchaikovsky as he read it. We'd also read 'Winnie the Pooh,' and, you know, those probably that he most often read me were 'Beatrix Potter' books, 'The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck' and 'The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle.' I still have at least 15 of them.

The best word to describe my father? Thoughtful. There was a tender quality to Dad that his sense of fun could sometimes mask. But, above all, he was sensitive and looked out for those he loved.

I have a lot of favorite films. I tend to love the silliness of 'Bringing Up Baby.' 'Charade' is fantastic. 'His Girl Friday,' the banter in that, that alone made me want to be a writer.

When it comes to Father's Day, I will remember my dad for both being there to nurture me and also for the times he gave me on my own to cultivate my own interests and to nurture my own spirit.

It's something he used to say when he was happy. It could be a very, very simple day. We might be sitting out on the front lawn. Dad loved classical music and we might be listening to some Stravinsky or something and having some tea and eggs. And he'd say, 'Oh, good stuff, isn't it?'

When I knew I was pregnant four years ago with a boy, a friend suggested I call him Cary, but I initially resisted. There was only one Cary Grant. But a week before he was due, I started thinking it would be wonderful to pass the name on to him. And anyway, my father wasn't Cary to me. He was Dad.

It's not what your parents give you. It's what you do with your own stuff.

I'm sure there was some part of his soul was intrinsically happy, but he probably had to go through some permutations to really get that to blossom. I'm sure Dad had his challenges, but I think that joy was there from the beginning and he had to find a way to make his life support that and express that.

I am my father's only child. The world knows a two-dimensional Cary Grant. As charming a star and as remarkable a gentleman as he was, he was still a more thoughtful and loving father.

In my father's later years he asked several times that I remember him the way I knew him. He said that after his death, people would talk. They would say 'things' about him and he wouldn't be there to defend himself.

It's better to walk alone, than with a crowd going in the wrong direction.

I don't think I've ever seen him in a movie theater! I've only seen him on TV. Wow, that's so silly of me! We only saw one of his films together, it was with a group of people, and when he kissed Deborah Kerr, I jumped off the couch and I ran up and I slapped the screen. I was so upset that my father was kissing this woman I didn't even know!

Cary Benjamin sleeps dreamily on my stomach as we're both bonding and recuperating. He's phenomenal.

Dad has, and had, a deservedly glowing reputation. However, this belief in 'reputation first' seems to have given rise to his fears of what might be rumored after his death.

I fell completely in love with acting. I guess I was bitten.

Can't blame men for wanting him. And wouldn't be surprised if Dad even mildly flirted back. Dad somewhat enjoyed being called gay. He said it made women want to prove the assertion wrong.

He was an amazing father. I clutched my memories of him to my heart for so long, but he's a part of the world.

Shoot for the moon. If you miss, shoot again.