Daddy Little Girl Growing Up Quotes

My mother always used to say, 'Well, if you had been born a little girl growing up in Egypt, you would go to church or go to worship Allah, but surely if those people are worshipping a God, it must be the same God' - that's what she always said. The same God with different names. ~ Jane Goodall

She stepped in closer and studied my face. "What's that?"
"What's what?"
"That weird goofy grin you're giving me - holy face full of sex! You slept with him!"
"What? No, I - "
"Don't try to outsmart the sexoholic, Liz. You totally boned him!"
Like a little girl who'd just gotten her first kiss, I squirmed. "I totally boned him!"
"Sweet Jesus! Yes!" She stood up on the front porch and started chanting. "YES! YES! YES!!! The drought is over!"
Tristan turned our way and raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay, ladies?"
I pulled Faye back down to sit and giggled. "Everything's fine."
"Including that sweet ass of his," Faye muttered with a smirk. "So, how was it?"
"Well, let's just say I gave his thing a nickname."
Tears formed in her eyes and her hands flew over her heart. "My little girl is growing up. Okay, what's the name?"
"The Incredible Hulk."
She cringed. "I'm sorry, what?"
"The Incr - "
"No, no. I heard you the first time. You mean that green monster thing? Liz, are you fucking a guy with a green penis? Because if you are, you need a tetanus shot." She eyed me up and down, cringing. "And higher standards. ~ Brittainy C. Cherry

But how can you be Peter Pan? You? The Boy Who Never Grew Up? That's not you. You have egg on your collar. You can't fly. You're not Alice. Alice was a blond little girl, I know it. You're lying to me.' And then they remember. What growing up really is: when they learned that boys can't fly and mermaids don't exist and White Rabbits don't talk and all boys grow old, even Peter Pan, as you've grown old. They've been deceived. As if you've somehow been lying to them. So following hard on the smile of remembrance is the pain in the eyes, which you've caused, everytime you meet someone. ~ John Logan

At one stopover on the train journey home, Hans told his sister Inge later, he saw a young girl with the Star of David on her breast; she was repairing tracks on the line, along with other people with yellow badges on their clothes. Her face was pallid, sunken in; her eyes, beyond grief and terror. Impulsively, Hans thrust his rations in her hand. She looked up at him, then at his uniform. She threw the packet of food to the ground.
He scooped it up, wiped off the dust, and picked a daisy growing by the side of the tracks. He placed the package, with the daisy on top, at her feet. He said, "I would have liked to give you a little pleasure." He boarded the train.
When he looked back, the girl was standing there, watching the train disappear, the flower in her hair. ~ Jud Newborn

On rainy afternoons, embroidering with a group of friends on the begonia porch, she would lose the thread of the conversation and a tear of nostalgia would salt her palate when she saw the strips of damp earth and the piles of mud that the earthworms had pushed up in the garden. Those secret tastes, defeated in the past by oranges and rhubarb, broke out into an irrepressible urge when she began to weep. She went back to eating earth. The first time she did it almost out of curiosity, sure that the bad taste would be the best cure for the temptation. And, in fact, she could not bear the earth in her mouth. But she persevered, overcome by the growing anxiety, and little by little she was getting back her ancestral appetite, the taste of primary minerals, the unbridled satisfaction of what was the original food. She would put handfuls of earth in her pockets, and ate them in small bits without being seen, with a confused feeling of pleasure and rage, as she instructed her girl friends in the most difficult needlepoint and spoke about other men, who did not deserve the sacrifice of having one eat the whitewash on the walls because of them. The handfuls of earth made the only man who deserved that show of degradation less remote and more certain, as if the ground that he walked on with his fine patent leather boots in another part of the world were transmitting to her the weight and the temperature of his blood in a mineral savor that left a harsh aftertaste in her mouth and a sed ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Nothing special has happened today; no one can say she was more provoked than usual. It is only that every day one grows a little, every day something is different, so that in the heaping up of days suddenly a thing that was impossible has become possible. This is how a girl becomes a grown woman. Step by step until it is done. ~ Naomi Alderman

Laura knew then that she was not a little girl any more. Now she was alone; she must take care of herself. When you must do that, then you do it and you are grown up. Laura was not very big, but she was almost thirteen years old, and no one was there to depend on. Pa and Jack had gone, and Ma needed help to take care of Mary and the little girls, and somehow to get them all safely to the west on a train. ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

Ambrose's eyes shoot back to Charlotte and he nods. "She's changed, hasn't she? Charlotte, I mean."
"Um, besides growing her hair long she doesn't seem to have changed much to me," I say, trying not to smile. "Why?"
"It's just that she seems so ... in charge. I mean, she's always had her act together, but ever since she's been back she's seemed more confident or something. And now that she's Vincent's second ... I guess I've always thought of her as a little sister. You know, the huggable kind you want to take care of. But now that I see her working with him and taking control ... I mean ... the girl is fierce."
Ambrose's face shines with respect and a sort of curious awe, and I have to restrain myself from jumping up and cheering for the fact that it has finally happened. He has finally noticed what was right under his nose. ~ Amy Plum

And she knew her defiance in escaping his grasp, even temporarily, had shown Jasu the depth of her strength. In the months afterward, though he behaved awkwardly, he had allowed her the time and space she needed. It was the first genuine show of respect he had made toward her in their four years of marriage. Jasu's parents made no such concession, their latent disappointment growing into relentless criticism of her for failing to bear a son.Kavita walks outside and spreads her mat on the rough stone steps, where she sits facing the rising sun in the east
She lights the small ghee-soaked diya and thin stick of incense, and then closes her eyes in prayer. The wisp of fragrant smoke slowly circles its way up into the air and around her. She breathes deeply and thinks, as always, of the baby girls she has lost. She rings the small silver bell and chants softly. She sees their faces and their small bodies, she hears their cries and feels their tiny fingers wrap around hers. And always, she hears the sound of Usha's desperate cry echoing behind the closed doors of the orphanage. She allows herself to get lost in the depths of her grief. After she has chanted and sung and wept for some time, she tries to envision the babies at peace, wherever they are. She pictures Usha as a little girl, her hair wound in two braids, each tied with a white ribbon. The image of the girl in her mind is perfectly clear: smiling, running, and playing with children, eating her meals and sleeping alo ~ Shilpi Somaya Gowda

She was not a little girl heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at it all, but they were wet smiles. ~ J.M. Barrie

Chris accompanied me to most of the exams as we got ready to have the baby. At one critical point, the doctor offered to do a test that would screen for developmental problems. People sometimes use the result of that test to decide whether to go ahead with the birth.
We looked at each other as she said that.
"Do you want to know?" I asked Chris. "I mean, what difference would it make if something was wrong with the baby?"
"It won't change anything. I'm going to love the baby, one way or another."
"Me, too. That's our baby, no matter how it comes out."
We decided not to do the test, leaving the outcome to God.
But we weren't willing to leave everything unknown, or at least Chris didn't: he wanted to know whether it was a boy or girl. A few checkups later, the sonogram proclaimed loudly, "It's a boy!"
I can still see myself lying on my back, belly covered with jelly, and Chris beaming next to me. He'd been sure the baby would be a girl-so many other Team guys were having girls that it seemed to be some sort of military requirement.
I was very excited-and a little nervous. I hadn't had a brother growing up. (Ten male cousins don't count in this equation. Even if I love them all." Talking to his mother, I mentioned that I had no idea what to expect with a boy. She, after all, was an expert-she'd had two, both of whom turned into fine young men.
"I don't know what to do with a boy," I confessed.
"You just chase them," she replied. ~ Taya Kyle

As a little girl growing up in a small farming town in Michigan, my idols were women like Marlene Dietrich and Rita Hayworth. ~ Dita Von Teese

Lou took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of just-cut flowers, fresh tamales from the food stands, and sunshine. She preferred the West Allis farmers' market to all others in the area, with its open sides, wide walkways, and rows of stalls. More recently, small tents serving hot sandwiches and fresh Mexican food had popped up outside the brick walls. It all looked so good, she'd learned long ago to come with limited funds or she would buy more produce than she could possibly use. She relished talking to the farmers, learning about what they grew and where. She liked to search for farmers growing something new and interesting she could use at Luella's.
But today's visit was personal, not business. Sue had dragged her out to West Allis for a little lunch and some girl time with fall squash and Honeycrisp apples. ~ Amy E. Reichert

She tried so hard to be brave, to be fierce as a wolverine and all, but sometimes she felt like she was just a little girl after all. ~ George R R Martin

When I was a little girl, I was the girl laughing at things that are actually funny. I wasn't one of them girls sitting in a circle giggling silently at stupid stuff. I LAUGHED and I laughed loud and wonderfully! I laughed at things that are funny and offensive and stirring and hilarious! Girls are raised to not have wit, to have no sense of humour, to only be quiet and sweet, and to be offended by everything! Girls are raised to not be people. I was born into this world determined to be a person! And I did it. ~ C. JoyBell C.

I personally always find something really scary about watching little girls learning to manipulate their dads by baby talking. Then they grow up and use the same technique on their boyfriends or husbands. That scares me because it's just so sick on so many levels. ~ Megan Fox

A flapper is just a little girl trying to grow up - in the process of growing up. ~ Colleen Moore

I was always the girl growing up who just wasn't quite like the rest of them. I liked working hard. I liked contorting my body until I could feel the ache inside my bones, until I could feel the pain in my teeth. I liked to wear lipstick and nothing else and found myself fascinated with the shape of my lips and the different colors I could make them. I ate too little. Slept too much. Masturbated far too often and at far too young an age. I enjoyed the feeling of being naked alone behind closed doors, exploring my deepest secrets within my imagination, as I put my hand over the rapid pace of my heart to feel how nervous it made me. I blushed at the faintest mention of my name and almost perished when complimented. I loved to find the answers behind someone's eyes. There's nothing quite like the feeling of when someone REALLY looks at you. And I read. Every chance I got. ~ R.B. O'Brien

Growing up I never imagined a little girl from a border town could one day become a governor. But this is America. In America algo es possible. ~ Susana Martinez

Going back to the basis, the phrase 'Fight Like A Girl', and we've all heard that growing up. And by that they mean that you're some kind of weakling and have no skills as a male. It's said to little boys when they can't fight yet, and it ridicules us. By the time we were born, the most of us hear things which program you to accept and know that you are less than your male counter part. It comes apparent in the way you're paid for your job, it comes apparent when yóu are not allowed to go outside after a certain hour because you stand a good chance of getting raped while no one says that to your boyfriend. While women, anywhere, live in some kind of fear, there is no equality and that is mathematically impossible. We cannot see that change or solved in our lifetimes, but we have to do everything that we can. We should remind ourselves that we are fifty-one percent. Everyone should know that fighting like a girl is a positive thing and that there is not inherently anything wrong with us by the fact that we are born like ladies. That is a beautiful thing that we should never be put down because of. Being compared to a woman should only make a man feel stronger. It should be a compliment. In this world we're creating it actually is.

I remember this one guy who came to our show in Texas or something and he had painted his shirt "real men fight like a girl", and I cried, because he was going away in the army next day. He bought my book because he wanted something he co ~ Emilie Autumn

And Ásta Sóllilja, it was she who swept on wings of poetry into those spheres which she had sensed as if in distant murmur one spring night last year when she was reading about the little girl who journeyed over the seven mountains; and the distant murmur had suddenly swelled to a song in her ears, and her soul found here for the first time its origin and its descent; happiness, fate, sorrow, she understood them all; and many other things. When a man looks at a flowering plant growing slender and helpless up in the wilderness among a hundred thousand stones, and he has found this plant only by chance, then he asks: Why is it that life is always trying to burst forth? Should one pull up this plant and use it to clean one's pipe? No, for this plant also broods over the limitation and the unlimitation of all life, and lives in the love of the good beyond these hundred thousand stones, like you and me; water it with care, but do not uproot it, maybe it is little Ásta Sóllilja. ~ Halldor Laxness

Then I'll go on, get it off my chest. It all starts with yours truly growing up in lovely Flanders, else I'd never of seen him and wouldn't be stuck here now in Poland, cause he was an army cook, fair-haired, a Dutchman but thin for once. Kattrin, watch out for the thin ones, only in those days I didn't know that, or that he'd got a girl already, or that they all called him Puffing Piet cause he never took out his pipe out of his mouth when he was on the job, it meant that little to him. ~ Bertolt Brecht

Do you live in Ellsberg?" I asked as he flipped from channel to channel too quickly to really be looking for anything to watch.
"Yes."
"Did you grow up there?"
"No."
"Do you like it there?"
"Sure."
"Do you think I'll like it there?"
"Your sister is shacked up with the prince of the fucking place. I'm sure you'll live a pretty sweet life in Ellsberg."
"Are the people friendly there?"
"Not really. Maybe two percent of the people are."
"So the other ninety eight percent are like you?"
Judd grinned. "Sounds about right. You should fit in."
"How am I not friendly?"
"You got a look about you. Like the little girl act is a con and you'll shiv me while I sleep."
"It's getting late, so I guess we'll see."
Smiling growing, he watched the TV, instead of me. "I'm sleeping in here next to my weapons and keeping one eye open. You best mess someone else, little girl."
"I'm not feeling great, so I'll probably wait to shiv you until I'm up to all the laughing and pointing I'll want to do after I get the drop on you."
Judd laughed. "You would mock me afterwards, wouldn't you?"
"Of course. You're a big guy. Fast and strong too. If I take you down, I'm totally enjoying the triumph."
"Good for you," he said quietly, a smile on his lips and a strange look in his eyes. ~ Bijou Hunter

I found a photo of Mom standing between Mick and Dad, who were both wearing basketball uniforms. Mom was perfectly groomed, of course, and looking very ladylike. I said I must have been adopted. Ma-ma-oo laughed and said that when Mom was a little girl, she was always doing things like tying two cookie sheets to her shoes and attempting to ski because she'd seen one of her movie star idols in a magazine, elegantly poised on the slopes of Switzerland. Mom flew down the hill, hit a bump and crashed into a bush. She broke her leg and earned the nickname "Crash. ~ Eden Robinson

Down vith children! Do them in!
Boil their bones and fry their skin!
Bish them, sqvish them, bash them, mash them!
Brrreak them, shake them, slash them, smash them!
Offer chocs vith magic powder!
Say "Eat up!" then say it louder.
Crrram them full of sticky eats,
Send them home still guzzling sveets.
And in the morning little fools
Go marching off to separate schools.
A girl feels sick and goes all pale.
She yells, "Hey look! I've grrrown a tail!"
A boy who's standing next to her
Screams, "Help! I think I'm grrrowing fur!"
Another shouts, "Vee look like frrreaks!
There's viskers growing on our cheeks!"
A boy who vos extremely tall
Cries out, "Vot's wrong? I'm grrrowing small!"
Four tiny legs begin to sprrrout
From everybody rrround about.
And all at vunce, all in a trrrice,
There are no children! Only MICE! ~ Roald Dahl

She's amazing."
That comes out a bit gooier than I mean it to, and my cheeks burn. My whole head practically bursts into flames when I notice my parents. My mom's grinning her my little boy is growing up smile and my dad looks like he wants to pat me on the back and call me "slugger."
Parents: perfecting ways to humiliate their children since the dawn of time.
"Well, it's very nice to meet you," my mom whispers, her voice thick.
If she starts crying, I'm going to smother myself with my pillow.
Audra steps forward, offering a sturdy hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you, too. Vane talks about you guys all the time."
My parents beam and I can't help grinning. She sure knows how to charm the parental units.
"I wish I could say the same," my mom says, shooting me a glare. "He told us he had a date, but you're the first girl he's brought home. He must really like you."
"Mom," I complain, ready to bean her with my pillow. Or maybe the bedside lamp. Especially when Audra blushes bright red. ~ Shannon Messenger

Brushing my little teeth every morning of my childhood, I stood on my tippy toes, leaned over the sink and said to myself that when I am a big girl I will see from this high.
Today I did the same thing, but the view from my toes was the same from flat feet.
I'm a big girl now. ~ Audrey Regan

Stones and bones; snow and frost; seeds and beans and polliwogs. Paths and twigs, assorted kisses, We all know who Daddy misses! His two little frogs of girls, that's who. They know where they are, do you, do you? ~ Alice Sebold

Mrs. Weston's friends were all made happy by her safety; and if the satisfaction of her well-doing could be increased to Emma, it was by knowing her to be the mother of a little girl. She had been decided in wishing for a Miss Weston. She would not acknowledge that it was with any view of making a match for her, hereafter, with either of Isabella's sons; but she was convinced that a daughter would suit both father and mother best. It would be a great comfort to Mr. Weston, as he grew older - and even Mr. Weston might be growing older ten years hence - to have his fireside enlivened by the sports and the nonsense, the freaks and the fancies of a child never banished from home; and Mrs. Weston - no one could doubt that a daughter would be most to her; and it would be quite a pity that any one who so well knew how to teach, should not have their powers in exercise again. ~ Jane Austen

Two small figures were beating against the rock; the girl had fainted and lay on the the boy's arm. With a last effort Peter pulled her up the rock and then lay down beside her. Even as he also fainted he saw that the water was raising, He knew that they would soon be drowned, but he could do no more.
As they lay side by side a mermaid caught Wendy by the feet, and began pulling her softly into the water. Peter feeling her slip from him, woke with a start, and was just in time to draw her back. But he had to tell her the truth.
"We are on the rock, Wendy," he said, "but it is growing smaller. Soon the water will be over it."
She did not understand even now.
"We must go," she said, almost brightly.
"Yes," he answered faintly.
"Shall we swim or fly, Peter?"
He had to tell her.
"Do you think you could swim or fly as far as the island, Wendy, without my help?"
She had to admit she was too tired.
He moaned.
"What is it?" she asked, anxious about him at once.
"I can't help you, Wendy. Hook wounded me. I can neither fly nor swim."
"Do you mean we shall both be downed?"
"Look how the water is raising."
They put their hands over their eyes to shut out the sight. They thought they would soon be no more. As they sat thus something brushed against Peter as light as a kiss, and stayed there, as if to say timidly, "Can I be of any us?" It was the tail of a kite, which Michael had made some days before. It had torn i ~ J.M. Barrie

Shall I tell her? Shall I be a kind and merciful narrator and take our girl aside? Shall I touch her new, red heart and make her understand that she is no longer one of the tribe of heartless children, nor even the owner of the wild and infant heart of thirteen-year-old girls and boys? Oh, September! Hearts, once you have them locked up in your chest, are a fantastic heap of tender and terrible wonders - but they must be trained. Beatrice could have told her all about it. A heart can learn ever so many tricks, and what sort of beast it becomes depends greatly upon whether it has been taught to sit up or to lie down, to speak or to beg, to roll over or to sound alarm, to guard or to attack, to find or to stay. But the trick most folk are so awfully fond of learning, the absolute second they've got hold of a heart, is to pretend they don't have one at all. It is the very first danger of the hearted. Shall I give fair warning, as neither you nor I was given? ~ Catherynne M Valente

Fathers and daughters have a special bond.
She is always daddy's little girl. ~ Richard L. Ratliff