Bread Winner Quotes

They were talking more distantly than if they were strangers who had just met, for if they had been he would have been interested in her just because of that, and curious, but their common past was a wall of indifference between them. Kitty knew too well that she had done nothing to beget her father's affection, he had never counted in the house and had been taken for granted, the bread-winner who was a little despised because he could provide no more luxuriously for his family; but she had taken for granted that he loved her just because he was her father, and it was a shock to discover that his heart was empty of feeling for her. She had known that they were all bored by him, but it had never occurred to her that he was equally bored by them. He was as ever kind and subdued, but the sad perspicacity which she had learnt in suffering suggested to her that, though he probably never acknowledged it to himself and never would, in his heart he disliked her.

You know, of course, that the Tasmanians, who never committed adultery, are now extinct.

There is so much more to marriage than who makes the money. Some of the hardest parts don't come with a paycheck.

Arin, are you all right?" "How?" He managed. "How did her arm break?" "She fell of a ladder." He must have visibly relaxed, because his cousin raised her brows and looked ready to scold. "I imagined something worse," he tried to explain. She appeared to understand his relief that pain, if it had to come, came this time without malice. Just and accident. Done by no one. The luck, sometimes of life. A bad slip that ends with bread, and someone to bind you.

Arin took the basket from her. "Coming or going?" "I've a errand here, and won't be home until late." "Shall I guess what brings you to town?" "You can try." He peeked in the basket. Bread, still warm from the oven. A bottle of liquor. Long, flat, pieces of wood. Rolls of gauze. "A picnic...with a wounded soldier? Sarsine," he teased, "is it true love? What's the wood for? Wait, don't tell me. I'm not sure I want to know." She swatted him. "The cartwright's oldest daughter has a broken arm.

If you have no arms To hold your crying child but your own arms And no legs but your own to run the stairs one more time To fetch what was forgotten I bow to you If you have no vehicle To tote your wee one but the wheels that you drive And no one else to worry, “Is my baby okay?” When you have to say goodbye on the doorsteps of daycare or on that cursed first day of school I bow to you If you have no skill but your own skill To replenish an ever-emptying bank account And no answers but your own to Satisfy the endless whys, hows, and whens your child asks and asks again I bow to you If you have no tongue to tell the truth To keep your beloved on the path without a precipice And no wisdom to impart Except the wisdom that you’ve acquired I bow to you If the second chair is empty Across the desk from a scornful, judging authority waiting For your child’s father to appear And you straighten your spine where you sit And manage to smile and say, “No one else is coming—I’m it.” Oh, I bow to you If your head aches when the spotlight finally shines on your child because your hands are the only hands there to applaud I bow to you If your heart aches because you’ve given until everything in you is gone And your kid declares, “It’s not enough.” And you feel the crack of your own soul as you whisper, “I know, baby. But it’s all mama’s got.” Oh, how I bow to you If they are your life while you are their nurse, tutor, maid Bread winner and bread baker, Coach, cheerleader and teammate… If you bleed when your child falls down I bow, I bow, I bow If you’re both punisher and hugger And your own tears are drowned out by the running of the bathroom faucet because children can’t know that mamas hurt too Oh, mother of mothers, I bow to you. —Toni Sorenson

The day before, they had started eating the saltwater-damaged bread. The bread, which they had carefully dried in the sun, now contained all the salt of seawater but not, of course, the water. Already severely dehydrated, the men were, in effect, pouring gasoline on the fire of their thirsts—forcing their kidneys to extract additional fluid from their bodies to excrete the salt. They were beginning to suffer from a condition known as hypernatremia, in which an excessive amount of sodium can bring on convulsions.

Everyone wants be a gangster until it’s time to do some 'gangster sh**': 
Say it to their face. Say you’re sorry. Forgive someone. Tell someone you love them. Show them why. Let shit go. Admit when you’re wrong. Be a better winner. Be a better loser. Help another human being. Break bread with your enemy. Open up your heart. Understand your feelings. Say what you actually feel. Do what you say. Tell the truth. Do the right thing. Choose forgiveness over revenge. Choose kindness over stones. Accept people as they are. Take the higher road. Be the change you want to see.

The larger point is that as society and the economy go through this shift there will not only be less economic opportunity to fulfill your role as “father, protector, provider, and bread winner,” there will be less appreciation for such roles.  Therefore, to make sure you have purpose and agency in life, you need to find hobbies and interests that are not dependent on economic circumstances and cannot be supplanted by government intervention.   Fun – Because of the Darwinistic programming you have, many men will approach life from the angle of attaining financial security first, and THEN relaxing and enjoying life.  You will get everything in order, get your degree, get your career, pay off your debts, pay off your house, and then, once financially stable, finally permit yourself to enjoy life.  There is just one minor problem with that approach:   Life doesn’t work that way.   Not

Looks like it,’ she replied. ‘Are you just trying to show me you can manage on your own? This crazy idea is bound to fail.’ Now he was blustering. ‘You’re no businesswoman, Juliette – reading a few novels on vacation doesn’t qualify you to run a bookstore. And don’t expect me to bail you out when it all goes pear-shaped.’ She sensed the fear behind his words. He didn’t want her to succeed; her role had been to admire his achievements. And she did, genuinely. Kevin was hard-working and successful; he’d been the main bread-winner for years and given her a comfortable life, which she’d no doubt taken for granted. ‘I’ve signed an agreement to make sure our joint assets will be protected,’ she said. ‘But maybe we should think about getting a divorce, so we can both move on.’ He hung up without replying. Although the lease on the shop wasn’t due to start till the beginning of June, the landlord had given permission for Juliette to visit the premises with her

The following is her recipe for pea roast: 1 egg well beaten 1 tablespoon sugar ¼ cup melted butter ½ cup pea pulp (canned or dried) ¼ cup finely chopped peanuts ¾ cup whole milk ¾ cup stale bread crumbs salt and pepper to taste Blend the melted butter with the sugar and eggs. Mix together the pea pulp, peanuts, seasonings, bread crumbs, and milk and combine with the first mixture. Turn into a greased pan and bake in a moderate oven (350 degrees F.) 25 minutes. Serve with tomato sauce or chopped pickle. This interesting entrée comes to you for the pleasant sum of approximately 17 cents and serves four generously.9

Carrie, Sheila, Sandy, Michael, my beloved husband and my family…I have been in a place for six incredible years where winning meant a crust of bread and to live another day. Since the blessed day of my liberation I have asked the question, ‘Why am I here? I am no better.’ In my mind’s eye I see those years and faces of those who never lived to see the magic of a boring evening at home. On their behalf I wish to thank you for honoring their memory, and you cannot do that in a better way than when you return to your homes tonight to realize that each of you who knows the joy of freedom are winners. Thank you on their behalf with all my heart.

It was not just her unusual intellect and outsized personality that made Margaret seem to Waldo more manly than feminine, but also her anomalous position as a woman “of the bread-winning tribe” who earned her keep as a writer and public speaker, her rate of pay approaching his own. Margaret was Waldo’s female double, not his feminine muse, as Cary was now. Margaret felt this too; it was why she thought she would make a better man than he. And why she rarely looked at men “with common womanly eyes,” as she once wrote to George Davis, but rather with an eye to friendship—yet on her own more womanly terms. If Waldo wished she would befriend him as a brother, she willed him to befriend her as a sister. The disjunction perplexed and saddened them both.

If you're involved in a motorcycle accident, this can result in devastating injuries, permanent disability or perhaps put you on on-going dependency on healthcare care. In that case, it's prudent to make use of Los Angeles motorcycle accident attorneys to assist safeguard your legal rights if you are a victim of a motorcycle accident. How a san diego car accident attorney Aids An experienced attorney will help you, if you're an injured motorcycle rider or your family members in case of a fatal motorcycle accident. Hence, a motorcycle accident attorney assists you secure complete and commensurate compensation because of this of accident damages. In the event you go it alone, an insurance coverage company may possibly take benefit and that's why you'll need to have a legal ally by your side till the case is settled to your satisfaction. If well represented after a motorcycle collision, you may get compensation for: Present and future lost income: If just after motor cycle injury you cannot perform and earn as just before, you deserve compensation for lost income. This also applies for a loved ones that has a lost a bread-winner following a fatal motorcycle crash. Existing and future healthcare costs, rehabilitation and therapy: these consist of any health-related fees incurred because of this of the accident. Loss of capability to take pleasure in life, pain and mental anguish: a motorcycle crash can lessen your good quality of life if you cannot stroll, run, see, hear, drive, or ride any longer. That is why specialists in motor cycle injury law practice will help with correct evaluation of your predicament and exercise a commensurate compensation. As a result, usually do not hesitate to speak to Los Angeles motorcycle accident attorneys in case you are involved in a motor cycle accident. The professionals will help you file a case within a timely fashion also as expedite evaluation and compensation. This could also work in your favor if all parties involved agree to an out-of-court settlement, in which case you incur fewer costs.

I like a good sausage, I do; It's a dish for the chosen and few. Oh, for sausage and mash, And of mustard a dash And an egg nicely fried—maybe two? At breakfast or lunch, or at dinner, The sausage is always a winner; If you want a good spread Go for sausage on bread, And forget all your vows to be slimmer.

However, God the Holy Spirit spoke to me, saying “You have to stop asking people for your financial and material needs; instead, ask Me. I am your bread winner.

You want to work on your business and not in your business. That's the secret to living the Internet lifestyle.

you see, all of you’s need to understand ain’t no man around here becoming husband today if he ain’t no bread winner &if he ain’t got no bread he’ll end up like mudane mr ilmi boodhari the baker who’s never gonna get anyone’s cake ever ilaa yowma qiyaama

They rode separately. She was on Javelin. He rode a mare. The next time they stopped to rest the horses, she came closer to the fire, even though this meant coming closer to him. She was achingly cold. He offered her bread and dried meat. He apologized for it. “I know you’re used to better.” Which was a stupid thing to say, given that he’d just rescued her from a prison. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was a stupid thing to say.

He glimpsed Sarsine as he walked through the city. She had a laden basket--it dragged at her arm, making its weight known even from far away. Her faintly harried expression softened at the sight of him. Arin took the basket from her. “Coming or going?” “I’ve an errand here, and won’t be home until late.” “Shall I guess what brings you to town?” “You can try.” He peeked in the basket. Bread, still warm from the oven. A bottle of liquor. Long, flat pieces of wood. Rolls of gauze. “A picnic…with a wounded soldier? Sarsine,” he teased, “is it true love? What’s the wood for? Wait, don’t tell me. I’m not sure I want to know.” She swatted him. “The cartwright’s oldest daughter has a broken arm.

Downstairs, Angelina rummaged through Mrs. Capuccio's refrigerator and found some pumpernickel bread, the end of a smoked pork roast, and a half a pound of Swiss cheese. She started thinking of the kinds of food she'd miss making most if she were stuck in bed most of the day, and she immediately thought deli. She cruised the refrigerator shelves and found some India relish, which she mixed together with a bit of ketchup and mayonnaise to make an improvised Thousand Island dressing. When she found a little can of sauerkraut in the cupboard, she knew she had a winner. She cooked up a Reuben sandwich in a cast-iron skillet, brewed a strong cup of tea with two sugars and a drop of milk, and brought it up to the room on a tray with some dill pickle slices on the side.

All patriarchal systems subscribe to a set of moral norms. These can be: men should be bread winners, women should be stay-at-home mums; men should behave like gentlemen, women should not put out; men should be strong and not cry and so forth. Many mistakenly believe that these rules are patriarchal, but their moral rules themselves do not necessarily constitute oppression - had they really been applied. Differing roles are not in and of themselves a sign of oppression. What actually characterises patriarchal systems is the fact that men are free to break the rules, while women are punished both when they comply and when they resist.

In Gandhi’s view of the world, ‘generally, it is the father who should be the bread-winner’, while ‘family life is the first and greatest thing. Its sanctity must remain.

In 1928, the Chillicothe Baking Company of Missouri began selling the first loaves of presliced bread under the Kleen Maid Bread brand.

When the religious tenets preach about the dependence of women on men as fathers, husbands, and sons for protection, single mothers are shattering this orthodox notion by being the wage-earners, breadwinners, and providers for their families, besides also taking up the caring and nurturing role.