We have a very disabled person in our family who is cared for by someone who lives a life most other people would find impossible, and her faith is making it a joy for her. And you can't argue with that. I mean, you can, but it's fruitless.
Oh, my, yes. I was raised in this Southern culture where if a guy was sarcastic, that just meant he didn't know how to show his love - but secretly he cared! I completely bought that. The men I chased and the things I put up with - it was criminal.
Our parents deserve our honor and respect for giving us life itself. Beyond this they almost always made countless sacrifices as they cared for and nurtured us through our infancy and childhood, provided us with the necessities of life, and nursed us through physical illnesses and the emotional stresses of growing up.
There are orphans that can be cared for; but this some will not venture to undertake, for it brings them work more than they care to do, leaving them but little time to please themselves.
My parents came from a poor background and worked their way up because of education. They saw it as a way to succeed. So they cared about me getting straight A grades when I was growing up.
I loved problems on paper, and I was good at math, but I was a mechanical engineer, and I never understood - or cared to - how a car worked.
In the '80s, Ronald Reagan inspired me to become politicized, because I grew up in that era when everything I cared about was under attack.
We know there are poets who are chosen: by what or whom, we no more know than what lies beyond our final breath, or what caused a certain action which resulted in the fulfillment or the desecration and collapse of what we most cared for in life.
The more professional opportunities came my way, the more time I spent away from my friends - the people I truly cared about. Maintaining friendships with people to talk to, depend on and enjoy takes time.
I was so glad to get out of the cotton patch and stop pickin' cotton, I wouldn't of cared who come by and said, 'I'll take you to Chicago.'
During the summer months of my high-school years, I befriended Dr. Robert Kough, a physician who cared for members of my family. Although he was practicing general medicine in a rural community when I met him, he was well equipped to arouse in me an interest not only in the life of a physician but in the fundaments of human biology.
I was always a girl who loved animals and cared about the environment - um, I totally recycled at home and turned the lights off every time I left! But it wasn't until I met the love of my life, Philippe Cousteau, that I realized every thing we do, buy and use makes a difference in the world... for better or worse.
My mother, R. Rajalakshmi, taught at Annamalai University in Chidambaram, and during the day, I was well cared for by aunts and grandparents in the usual way of an extended Indian family.
We all want love and to feel safe, wanted, cared for, to like our selves, our bodies, to have families and feel okay in the world.
I only became a celebrity because I had a kid. Before I was pregnant nobody cared. I joke to my agent that having a baby made my career.