“I went down to my baby's house And I sat down on the step Said 2,000 years of Christian history, baby And you ain't learned to love me yet?”

“Said 2,000 years of Christian history, baby And you ain't learned to love me yet?”

“Love, my child, is a thing that every mother learns; it is not born with a baby, but made; and for eleven years, I have learned to love you as my son.”

“I mark my years or parenting by the people who stepped in and forced me to abandon my inclination to meddle, micromanage, and coddle, beginning with my children's father, who sat me down and told me in year two that I was going to create a little monster if I continuted to act as though "no" and "I don't love you" were synonomous.”

“Baby, I ain't trash. Trash is something you throw away. My people keep me.”

“Whatever are we to do about you, baby girl? Huh?' 'Kill me, I guess.' 'That idea has been said already. Got'ny other ones?' 'Help me. Ain't nobody said that idea yet, have they?”