Mommie Dearest Quotes

Well, that’s just a little hard, since I can’t even talk her into sparing your life, huh? You haven’t exactly endeared yourself to her. (Kat) Oh, excuse my utter lack of manners there. Should we call Mommy dearest and invite her over for tea? I promise to be on my best manners when I choke the life out of her. (Sin)

No wire hangers!

I remember [Mommie Dearest] always said, “Send me flowers while I’m alive. They won’t do me a damn bit of good after I’m dead.” My mother died on the morning of May 10, 1977.

If you're acting, you're wasting your time. If you're not, you're wasting mine.

[The doctor] asked if I knew what might be causing my headaches. I looked her squarely in the face and said to her directly: “Yes, I hate my mother.” That was the end of the interview. That was also the end of my visits to the doctor. That was not the end of my headaches.

Ro peeked over Keefe’s shoulder. “Wow. Leave it to Mommy Dearest to make Lord Jerkypants seem like the good parent.

I have read your fantastical book "Mirror Mirror" with awe and applause! Working with you on my regional TV show for a year was a godsend...you are an inspiration. All success.

In all imaginative writing sympathy for the subject is necessary not because it is the politically correct or morally decent posture to adopt but because an absence of sympathy shuts down the mind: engagement fails, the flow of association dries up, and the work narrows. What I mean by sympathy is simply that level of empathic understanding that endows the subject with dimension. The empathy that allows us, the readers, to see the "other" as the other might see him or herself is the empathy that provides movement in the writing. When someone writes a Mommie Dearest memoir - where the narrator is presented as an innocent and the subject as a monster - the work fails because the situation remains static. For the drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent. Above all, it is the narrator who must complicate in order that the subject be given life.

The lawyer asked us to sit down. He was holding a copy of the will in his hands. I sat nearest him. He flipped several pages over and then handed me the copy, with only the last page showing. There at the top of the final page of the will was one short paragraph which read: “It is my intention to make no provision herein for my son Christopher or my daughter Christina for reasons which are well known to them.

If instead of just clay I could take all the prettiest things Like a rainbow, Or clouds or the way a bird sings, Maybe then, dearest Mommy, If I put them all together, I could really make a sculpture of you.

Go ’head and judge me, miss. I fear nothing but the pitiless gaze of the Almighty. You could be Mommie Dearest or Clair Huxtable—don’t matter what kind of mother you are; daughters always blame moms for every mess they make.

Mother took the big saw from me and walked over to the orange tree which stood at one end of the totally mutilated rose garden. It was a mature tree standing maybe eight feet tall, producing lots of oranges. It was covered with fruit. The nurse, the cook, and I stood at a kind of breathless attention watching her as she began to saw the trunk of the orange tree! Finally we heard a cracking, splintering sound and the orange tree toppled over into the stubby remains of the rose garden.

Ugh, I should’ve known Bangs Boy was going to be a part of this,” Keefe grumbled. “And I’m assuming by ‘talked,’ you mean one of your Look-at-my-fancy-Telepath-tricks! kind of chats, right? Mommy Dearest didn’t send him to deliver a special message, did she?” He sat up straighter. “Wait. He didn’t blow up anything, did he?

ULTIMATE BETRAYALS: [OH GOODY—ANOTHER SECTION ON MOMMY DEAREST. WE GET IT. SHE’S CREEPY. I DIDN’T FIGURE IT OUT FAST ENOUGH, AND SHE USED ME FOR A WHILE. BUT THAT’S ALL DONE NOW, AND IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE I TAKE HER DOWN. LET’S MOVE ON, SHALL WE?] A FOOLISHLY DANGEROUS PLAN: [I SHOULD PROBABLY BE OFFENDED BY THAT TITLE. BUT… RUNNING OFF TO JOIN THE NEVERSEEN DEFINITELY WASN’T MY SMARTEST MOVE. I THOUGHT I COULD TAKE THEM DOWN FROM THE INSIDE. AND YEAH, IT PRETTY MUCH BACKFIRED.] [I DID LEARN SOME STUFF, THOUGH!] [SORT OF…] [I’M STILL PIECING IT ALL TOGETHER. I MEAN, I WOULDN’T DO IT AGAIN OR RECOMMEND IT TO ANYONE ELSE OR ANYTHING (HEAR THAT, BANGS BOY???), BUT IT WASN’T A TOTAL WASTE.] [OKAY, MAYBE IT WAS.] A WAY WITH ALICORNS: [IT’S TRUE. GLITTER BUTT LOVES ME.] [SAY IT WITH ME: KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!] EMOTIONAL SUPPORT STUFFED ANIMAL: [YOU GUYS MADE AN OFFICIAL RECORD ABOUT MRS. STINKBOTTOM???? I CAN’T DECIDE IF THAT’S AWESOME, OR REALLY, REALLY SAD.…] [SAD FOR YOU GUYS—NOT ME. SLEEPING WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL IS THE BEST. YOU SHOULD TRY IT SOMETIME!] [ALSO: DOES THIS MEAN FITZY HAS A SECTION ON HIS SPARKLY RED DRAGON SNUGGLE BUDDY????????] A MERCADIR—WITH THE SCARS TO PROVE IT: [EESH—THANK GOODNESS I CAN REDACT THIS. I REALLY DON’T NEED ANYONE REMINDING FOSTER HOW MAD SHE WAS AT ME. THE POINT IS: I BEAT THE OGRE KING IN A SPARRING MATCH. I DOUBT EVEN GIGANTOR COULD DO THAT!] FINAL NOTE: [WHY IS THERE NOT A SECTION ON MY AMAZING HAIR????] [HERE, LET ME FIX THAT FOR YOU!] [IT’S DIFFICULT TO DESCRIBE THE ABSOLUTE PERFECTION OF KEEFE’S TRADEMARK HAIRSTYLE. COUNTLESS OTHERS HAVE TRIED TO EMULATE IT, BUT THEY’VE ALL FAILED. THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE LORD HUNKYHAIR. IT’S A RESPONSIBILITY THAT MUST BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!] [HUNKYHAIR → OUT]

Mommy Dearest Mommy... You could always make peace from chaos, And find that one candle in the dark. Your strength is what no man could muster, Though your weakness is your heart. You give to all - even the undeserving, Forgiveness is your breath. God sewed your fabric with his blessings, And braided your hair with faith. .... Your lips are stern but pleasing, Your feet are rooted in grace. Your tongue is wisdom seeded, And your skin is knitted with care. Your hands are like alabaster, Pure and healing, love they are. Your eyes are pools of intuition, And service - the red in your blood. .... Ah Mommy... You are that flower that blooms in adversity; rare and beautiful, so you are. Your love for me has sweetened my breath, and your life is my guiding light.

Cooper would also, inadvertently, bestow something on Joan. At home, he adored his mother and used to call her "Mommie Dearest." Inspired, Crawford would soon confer the title on herself.

To the world I may be Joan Crawford, but to my children I am 'Mommie Dearest,' and those two words mean everything to me," Crawford said in 1943 to Motion Picture magazine. "I

It isn't you, Helga, it's the dirt.

I’m saying . . . if you guys are up for it, I want the full Fitzphie experience! Dig around my head, stare into each other’s eyes—whatever you need to do to figure out what Mommy Dearest is hiding from me.

He did seem like a nice boy.' Seeming and being are two different things. You seem nice, too, Mommy dearest.

To know why the hammer is swung does not remove the pain of its impact."- a reviewer's comment on the abuse described by Christina Crawford in her book, Mommie Dearest when it came out.

As I was trying to say before I was so rudely interrupted by my bodyguard—this means I now have a totally epic new way to disappoint Mommy Dearest!

Keefe barked a bitter laugh. “That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. Mommy Dearest wants us to thank her for being so evil!

Narcissist Personality Disorder (NPD).

Farren had something in motion for Noel, since she couldn’t get her life together on her own in California, it was time for mommy dearest to step in and get Noel on the right path.