Little Girls Fathers Quotes

Little girls think their fathers will save them. Women know better. ~ Rafael Yglesias

Most little girls in England grow up wanting to marry
a prince. Bex grew up wanting to kick James Bond's butt and assume his double-0 ranking. ~ Ally Carter

There are people in this world whose central focus is to permeate cruelty with little regard for their own karmic penalties. Love is such a powerful emotion and overriding sentiment that it is unfathomable that life's most potent muse has escaped the psyche of so many of our men.

I can't understand why somebody would think it is okay to rip two hundred and thirty girls from their families. I wonder who condones this type of behavior. I often look at children and wonder what they will become, I stare at school boys, babies and even the bareback boys on the street and wonder if in a few years one of these children might take my life.

With that thought I am forced to wonder what might have gone wrong in their lives, what values did their parents impress upon them that made them morph into the brutish adults they have become. I wonder if their parents know about their atrocious acts and if they understand that they might be responsible for creating these monsters who in my opinion should have never seen the light of life. ~ Crystal Evans

Have you found it different having girls in the house?"
He cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah."
"Would you care to elaborate?"
"Nope."
I looked up from my writing. "If you don't elaborate, it's going to be a very short article."
"Look, I've already gotten into it once tonight--"
"Are you implying I'm hard to live with? Is that why you won't comment further? Because you think I'll be offended? I won't be."
"No further comment."
I sighed, tempted to toss the recorder at him.
"Okay, then, we'll move on. What's been the most difficult aspect of living with us?"
There was silence, but it was the kind where you can sense someone wants to speak but doesn't. Jason was so incredibly still, as though he was weighing consequences.
"Not kissing you," he finally said, quietly.
My heart did this little stutter. I just stared at him as the recorder continued to run, searching for sound. My hand was shaking when I reached over and turned it off.
"But you did kiss me, and you said it was a mistake."
"Because getting involved with you is a bad idea, on so many levels."
"Care to share one of those levels?"
"I'm living in your house. Your parents are giving me a roof over my head. Your mom brings home extra takeout. I'm here only for the summer. Then I'm back at school." He reached up, removed the ice pack from around his shoulder, and set it on the table. "And Mac? After we went to Dave and Bubba's, he comes out to the ~ Rachel Hawthorne

Bremer also observed "a pretty little white boy of about seven years of age sitting among some tall Negro girls. The child had light hair, the most lovely light brown eyes, and cheeks as red as roses; he was, nevertheless, the child of a slave mother, and was to be sold as a slave. ~ Michelle Gordon Jackson

No," the mother told her. "It's too dangerous there".
A small incident, but when multiplied a hundred, a thousand times in a little girl's life, she learns that she's not as capable as a boy of handling life on the edge. She learns to hang back. ~ Sue Monk Kidd

Trust her; we girls are two sheets short of psycho when it comes to our special little time. ~ Sandi Lynn

I want to look my best, but I'm not a model. I'm not an actress. I'm representing normal girls. It's OK to have a little bit of curve. I'm happy with my body. So many girls come up to me and say, "Thank you for being normal," and I'm proud of that. ~ Miranda Lambert

The girl she said, I didn't tell you this because it was a small thing, but little girls, they leave their hearts at home when they walk outside. Hearts are so precious. They don't want to lose them. ~ Edwidge Danticat

I couldn't take my eyes off the little dark girl and the way, like a queen, she walked around and was even reduced by the sullen bartender to menial tasks such as bringing us drinks and sweeping the back. Of all the girls in there she needed the money most; maybe her mother had come to get money from her for her little infant/ sisters and brothers. It never, never occurred to me just to approach her and give her some money. I have a feeling she would have taken it with a degree of scorn, and scorn from the likes of her made me flinch. In my madness I was actually in love with her for the few hours it all lasted; it was the same unmistakable ache and stab across the mind, the same sighs, the same pain, and above all the same reluctance and fear to approach. Strange that Neal and Frank also failed to approach her; her unimpeachable dignity was the thing that made her poor in a wild old whorehouse, and think of that. At one point I saw Neal leaning like a statue toward her, ready to fly, and befuddlement cross his face as she glanced coolly and imperiously his way and he stopped rubbing his belly and gaped and finally bowed his head. For she was the queen. ~ Jack Kerouac

Sexist grammar burns into the brains of little girls and young women a message that the male is the norm, the standard, the central figure beside which we are all deviants, the marginal, the dependent variables. It lays the foundation for androcentric thinking, and leaves men safe in their solipsistic tunnel-vision. ~ Adrienne Rich

No, it is not my sense of the immorality of the Humbert Humbert-Lolita relationship that is strong; it is Humbert's sense. He cares, I do not. I do not give a damn for public morals, in America or elsewhere. And, anyway, cases of men in their forties marrying girls in their teens or early twenties have no bearing on Lolita whatever. Humbert was fond of "little girls" - not simply "young girls." Nymphets are girl-children, not starlets and "sex kittens." Lolita was twelve, not eighteen, when Humbert met her. You may remember that by the time she is fourteen, he refers to her as his "aging mistress. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Really, seeing the amount we give in charity, the wonder is there are any poor left. It is a comfort that there are. What should we do without them? Our fur-clad little girls! our jolly, red-faced squires! we should never know how good they were, but for the poor? Without the poor how could we be virtuous? We should have to go about giving to each other. And friends expect such expensive presents, while a shilling here and there among the poor brings to us all the sensations of a good Samaritan. Providence has been very thoughtful in providing us with poor. ~ Jerome K. Jerome

The prompt Paris morning struck its cheerful notes - in a soft breeze and a sprinkled smell, in the light flit, over the garden-floor, of bareheaded girls with the buckled strap of oblong boxes, in the type of ancient thrifty persons basking betimes where terrace-walls were warm, in the blue-frocked brass-labelled officialism of humble rakers and scrapers, in the deep references of a straight-pacing priest or the sharp ones of a white-gaitered red-legged soldier. He watched little brisk figures, figures whose movement was as the tick of the great Paris clock, take their smooth diagonal from point to point; the air had a taste as of something mixed with art, something that presented nature as a white-capped master-chef. The ~ Henry James

I, with millions of other Americans, have the same dream Martin Luther King Jr. had; when I wake up I wish some of the things I dreamt would be true. I wish that little black and white boys and girls would hold hands without being shocked at their nearness to each other and say in a natural way, we have overcome. ~ Maya Angelou

In the older times it was seldom said to little girls, as it always has been said to boys, that they ought to have some definite plan, while they were children, what to be and do when they were grown up. There was usually but one path open before them, to become good wives and housekeepers. And the ambition of most girls was to follow their mothers' footsteps in this direction; a natural and laudable ambition. But girls, as well as boys, must often have been conscious of their own peculiar capabilities,
must have desired to cultivate and make use of their individual powers. ~ Lucy Larcom

What is it, Master Calligrapher, that little girls do in the way that spiders weave?" sleeve asked primly.
The Calligrapher coughed, for his room was very dusty, and there was dust even on his eyelashes, and said: "It is right and proper," he said, "for a girl to read as many books as there are bricks in this city, and then, when she is finished, to begin to write new ones which are made out of the old ones, as this city is made of those stones. ~ Catherynne M Valente

Grover seemed to read my mind. "Listen," he said. "I don't know if your grandparents came on boats or if they were a bunch of farmers. But you've got to understand something about the old man. His folks weren't more than a few years from Wounded Knee. The government still shot people. It stole the kids, performed experiments on them, sterilized the little girls. If you made too much noise you just disappeared. That's just the way it was. You didn't make trouble." "Sounds like the Nazis," I said. Grover just shrugged. "I'm just trying to make you understand. This is a big thing he's doing. I'm telling you again, he's counting on you because you're the only white man he trusts. ~ Kent Nerburn

Today, among little girls especially, princesses and the romanticised ideal they represent - finding the man of your dreams - have a limited shelf life. ~ John Lasseter

Daddies always listen to their little girls. ~ Dorothea Benton Frank

We're so lucky to have family like we do."

"We are. And maybe we can even add to it."

Leaning back, I looked at him in surprise. "Did I hear that right?"

He shrugged. "I figure I'm not that old. Might be fun to give the girls a little brother."

"Or sister."

He paused. "Um ... a house with four girls in it?"

Giggling, I kissed his lips. "Five. Don't forget your wife."

He sighed. "We're going to need more space. And I'm going to need a bigger swear jar. ~ Melanie Harlow

You are Fire!
Don't believe these mere mortals.
They want to put you on a pedestal
and sing paeans to you;
later they would burn you
in the altar of that same fire!

Stand away and stand alone!
You are limitless!
But these mortals can only limit your sky!
You are the Universe!
But they will only give you a little space!
Break free! It's a trap!
They want to cage you!
Because, they are afraid of your real power!

You are a woman.
You are the fire!
You are all conquering.
You are all powerful!

You are Supreme!
You were not born to be a mere beauty queen!! ~ Avijeet Das

On the first day of November last year, sacred to many religious calendars but especially the Celtic, I went for a walk among bare oaks and birch. Nothing much was going on. Scarlet sumac had passed and the bees were dead. The pond had slicked overnight into that shiny and deceptive glaze of delusion, first ice. It made me remember sakes and conjure a vision of myself skimming backward on one foot, the other extended; the arms become wings. Minnesota girls know that this is not a difficult maneuver if one's limber and practices even a little after school before the boys claim the rink for hockey. I think I can still do it - one thinks many foolish things when November's bright sun skips over the entrancing first freeze.

A flock of sparrows reels through the air looking more like a flying net than seventy conscious birds, a black veil thrown on the wind. When one sparrow dodges, the whole net swerves, dips: one mind. Am I part of anything like that?

Maybe not. The last few years of my life have been characterized by stripping away, one by one, loves and communities that sustain the soul. A young colleague, new to my English department, recently asked me who I hang around with at school. "Nobody," I had to say, feeling briefly ashamed. This solitude is one of the surprises of middle age, especially if one's youth has been rich in love and friendship and children. If you do your job right, children leave home; few communities can stand an individual's most ~ Mary Rose O'Reilley

She was a sweet girl but not really pretty, a rough sketch of a woman with a little of everything in her, one of those silhouettes which artists draw in three strokes on the tablecloth in a café after dinner, between a glass of brandy and a cigarette. Nature sometimes turns out creatures like that. ~ Guy De Maupassant

Women are brought up to conform: all the rules of femininity - dress, behavior, attitude - essentially break the spirit. Women are trained to need men, not sexually but metaphysically. Women are brought up to be the void that needs filling, the absence that needs presence. Women are brought up to fear men and to know that they must please men and to understand that they cannot survive without the help of men richer and stronger than they can be themselves, on their own. Women are brought up to submit to intercourse - and here the strategy is shrewd - by being kept ignorant of it. The rules are taught, but the act is hidden. Girls are taught "love, " not "fuck. " Little girls look between their legs to see if "the hole" is there, get scared thinking about what "the hole" is for; no one tells them either. Women use their bodies to attract men; and most women, like the little girls they were, are astonished by the brutality of the fuck. The importance of this ignorance about intercourse cannot be overstated: it is as if no girl would grow up, or accept the hundred million lessons on how to be a girl, or want boys to like her, if she knew what she was for. ~ Andrea Dworkin

I am in love with girls that are bad and naughty and badass, and a little selfish, but I like to watch from a respectful distance! ~ Dreama Walker

The first thing I saw was the pink bubble gum, four feet lower than it should have been, inches above the ground, and framed by a set of perfectly painted lips.
It was one of those huge bubbles you just know is going to pop and cover the girl's face, and she'll shriek and yell and whine that her makeup is ruined, blah, blah, blah. But the bubble didn't pop - she did that thing where you suck all the air back into your mouth, and the bubble deflated into a little pink heap. ~ Aprilynne Pike

I was terrified of death by the time I was three or four, actively if not lucidly. I had frequent nightmares about snakes and scary neighbors. By the age of four or five, I was terrified by my thoughts. By the time I was five, the migraines began. I was so sensitive about myself and the world that I cried or shriveled up at the slightest hurt. People always told me, "You've got to get a thicker skin," like now they might say, jovially, "Let go and let God." Believe me, if I could, I would, and in the meantime I feel like stabbing you in the forehead. Teachers wrote on my report cards that I was too sensitive, excessively worried, as if this were an easily correctable condition, as if I were wearing too much of the violet toilet water little girls wore then. ~ Anne Lamott

The girls changing in the gym watched her from the other side of the room the first time she went in, and one of the nuns was sitting there as well, just because Stella was there. They took her into a meeting in school and she had to say in advance that she wasn't a lesbian, or they wouldn't have let her even try to use the girls' changing room. They asked her if she was still a Christian. She explained that her family are not religious. They asked her what she knew of damnation. She asked them what they knew of autonomy. They asked her how she knew that word. She asked if they had met her mother. They said they would pray for her. She said it was not necessary. They asked if she might feel different in a few months, or if perhaps she would simply change for gym in the janitor's cupboard. She said she'd felt like this her whole life and no amount of praying was going to change it and she could use the janitor's cupboard to change, but she was a person, not a broom. They said she needed to find Jesus. She asked if it was like finding Wally? Only one nun knew what she meant. That little drawing in those old comic strips her mum had, when you look for the dweeby guy in the stripy hat. ~ Jenni Fagan

Where did the voice of Alfarata go, Ma?"
"Goodness!" Ma said. "Aren't you asleep yet?"
"I'm going to sleep," Laura said. "But please tell me where the voice of Alfarata went?"
"Oh I suppose she went west," Ma answered. "That's what the Indians do."
"Why do they do that, Ma?" Laura asked. "Why do they go west?"
"They have to," Ma said.
"Why do they have to?"
"The government makes them, Laura," said Pa. "Now go to sleep."
He played the fiddle softly for a while. Then Laura asked, "Please, Pa, can I ask just one more question?"
"May I," said Ma.
Laura began again. "Pa, please, may I--"
"What is it?" Pa asked. It was not polite for little girls to interrupt, but of course Pa could do it. ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

In the midst of grief, there is no such thing as strong women of God. There is only brokenness, desperate need, and little girls in Daddy's lap. We are not called to be strong women. Oh, how that sentence makes me bristle. I want to be strong, independent, and capable. This broken, desperate need for Christ offends my mask. ~ Emily P. Freeman

Weren't you the one who said you see girls the same way we see party dresses, only to be used once?"
"Clearly I view you a little differently." He reached for one of her errant curls and wound it around one tattooed finger, the black rose on the back of his hand spinning until it turned red beneath the ruby starlight. With every turn he drew her closer. He made it easy to ignore her achy legs and her dying heart. He twisted the hair around his finger in the same way she imagined he wanted to wrap her around his finger. As if she would ever let him. ~ Stephanie Garber

The delicate balance between these factors helps explain why, for instance, the typical prostitute earns more than the typical architect. It may not seem as though she should. The architect would appear to
be more skilled (as the word is usually defined) and better educated (again, as usually defined). But little girls don't grow up dreaming of becoming prostitutes, so the supply of potential prostitutes is relatively small. Their skills, while not necessarily "specialized," are practiced in a very specialized context. The job is unpleasant and forbidding in at least two significant ways: the likelihood of violence and the lost opportunity of having a stable family life. As for demand? Let's just say that an architect is more likely to hire a prostitute than vice versa. ~ Levitt/Dubner

Miss Marshall, are you trying to tell me that you didn't dream of marrying a lord when you were young? That you didn't play at being a lady, imagining what it would be like to be waited on hand and foot? I thought every little girl with any inclination at all to marry dreamed of catching the eye of a lord."
"God, no." She looked horrified. "Farm girls who catch the eye of a lord don't end up married. If we're lucky, we don't end up pregnant. ~ Courtney Milan

It must be lovely to be grown up, Marilla, when just being treated as if you were is so nice ... Well, anyway, when I grow up, I'm always going to talk to little girls as if they were, too, and I'll never laugh when they use big words. ~ L.M. Montgomery

Wine is the refined jewel that only a grown woman will prefer to the sparkling trinkets adored by little girls. ~ Muriel Barbery

I am an American man, and in America, we still think of figure skaters as little girls in pretty, sparkly dresses - I worked very hard to change the perception and image of figure skating, and I think I've done a great job on my end, but in figure skating, taste needs to evolve. ~ Johnny Weir

I try to parent equally, but I think little girls are a little more sensitive. ~ Don Johnson

When I was at home, I wasn't shy. I was the clown at home, because I was loved. It was in the outside world that I was judged and I wasn't loved. That was very clear to me, that I wasn't loved. So I became very quiet. You know, those little girls you see in those pictures that look like they want to hunch, I was trying to disappear into my shoulder blades. The quietest person in the classroom, that was me. But that wasn't me at home. ~ Sandra Cisneros

Once upon a time it was not safe to be born a girl. It is important to remember that time does not exist. Once upon a time, all of time, it was not safe to be a girl. Lecherous men would disguise themselves as kittens left for dead by their mothers so that little girls would pick them up and kiss their eyes into vision and then the kittens would grow and grow until they were bigger and fiercer than lions and they would eat the girls in one bite, bones and skin and hair and all. Once upon a time it was not safe to be born a girl because either you were the kitten abandoned in a dumpster or you were devoured by it. Once upon a time it was not safe to be a girl because girls have fires inside of them and men who are cold cling to their warmth until they leech it from the bones of women and then burn them to death with their own matches. ~ Erin Emily Ann Vance

I believe that women and girls today have to partner in a powerful way with men - with their fathers, with their sons, with their brothers, with the plumbers, the road builders, the caregivers, the doctors, the lawyers, with our president and with all beings. ~ Joan Halifax

I Write books for the little girl in the adult woman who some man told she was not good enough. Let us dismantle the notion that a woman cannot be free with her sexuality or that she needs a man to make her complete. This one is for the little girls with hearts on their sleeves. ~ Crystal Evans

I cry for a little girl's dreams. I cry because the dreams will not die, though I am powerless to make them come true. ~ Glen Cook

Of all the stories our mother told us when we were girls, the story about Lenz and the snowflakes and the sky was our favorite. We were children ourselves; we empathized with a little boy's failure to understand an adult's message. We got why his misapprehension was cute and silly, but we also got why it was wonderful, why this was a glorious way to see the world; not reduced to one of its component colors, but broad and encompassing and mystical, and the whole thing revolving around little old you. ~ Judith Claire Mitchell

In case you haven't noticed, the primary occupation of little girls is sitting still. Stop fidgeting, behave yourself, act like a lady, don't, don't don't--that's what little girls hear the most. But my mother never said those words to me. She said Go! Do! Sing! ~ Barbara Paul

My dance teacher will show me pictures of girls who are rhythmic gymnasts, and they are super skinny. But I don't want to be too skinny. I think that looks a little gross when you are dancing. You don't want to be a scrawny, bony thing. ~ Maddie Ziegler

A glittery girl. Older than Jane but definitely still glittery. All her life Jane had watched girls like that with scientific interest. Maybe a little awe. Maybe a little envy. They weren't necessarily the prettiest, but they decorated themselves so affectionately, like Christmas trees, with dangling earrings, jangling bangles and delicate, pointless scarves. They ~ Liane Moriarty

I'm lookin' at these Disney characters, these young girls coming out looking like, little whores. ~ Sharon Jones