Quotes on My Boys

I've had to come to grips with a God that fits my own experience, which is, my God could not be offering protection and not have protected my boy.

What we want now is an immense awakening of Râjasika energy, for the whole country is wrapped in the shroud of Tamas. The people of this land must be fed and clothed-must be awakened -must be made more fully active. Otherwise they will become inert, as inert as trees and stones. So, I say, eat large quantities of fish and meat, my boy!

Sacrifice. Work. Self-discipline. I teach these things, and my boys don't forget them when they leave.

How can I teach my boys the value and beauty of language and thus communication when the President himself reads westerns exclusively and cannot put together a simple English sentence? (John Steinbeck, in a private letter written during the Eisenhower administration)

In this world of numbness and information overload, the ability to feel, my boy, is a rare gift indeed.

Always do I recall the parting words uttered by my old governor: "My boy, never . . ." I won't set 'em down. I disregarded them fool-like and paid, and paid; had I a son I'd hand 'em on and ram 'em home. What fools we be when young. We fancy we be wise, forgetting that the old boys have graduated in the 'varsity of the world, the greatest 'varsity of all, and each day we should learn from they.

I want my boys to have an understanding of people's emotions, their insecurities, people's distress, and their hopes and dreams.

What shall I say of the gallantry with which these Marines have fought! Of the slopes of Hill 142; of the Mares Farm; of the Bois de Belleau and the Village of Bouresches stained with their blood, and not only taken away from the Germans in the full tide of their advance against the French, but held by my boys against counter attacks day after day and night after night. I cannot write of their splendid gallantry without tears coming to my eyes.

There’s no way I’m going to put myself through Sandhurst and then sit on my arse back home while my boys are out fighting for their country.

Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable.

My boy, we are pilgrims in an unholy land.

When I was a boy I used to do what my father wanted. Now I have to do what my boy wants. My problem is: When am I going to do what I want?

I'll teach my boy the sweetest things; I'll teach him how the owlet sings.

There is truth, my boy. But the doctrine you desire, absolute, perfect dogma that alone provides wisdom, does not exist. Nor should you long for a perfect doctrine, my friend. Rather, you should long for the perfection of yourself. The deity is within you, not in ideas and books. Truth is lived, not taught.

Never trust to general impressions, my boy, but concentrate yourself upon details.