Father and Fatherhood

Well, my daddy left home when I was three, And didn’t leave much to Ma and me, Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze. Now I don’t blame him because he run and hid, But the meanest thing he ever did was Before he left, he went and named me Sue.

 

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

When one has not had a good father one must create one.

It is funny the two things most men are proudest of is the thing that any man can do and doing does in the same way, that is being drunk and being the father of their son.

Whoever does not have a good father should procure one.

One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters.

It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.

The place of the father in the modern suburban family is a very small one, particularly if he plays golf.

O, father forsaken, Forgive your son!

Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what

Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.

The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy.

my father moved through dooms of love through sames of am through haves of give, singing each morning out of each night my father moved through depths of height

and nothing quite so least as truth —i say though hate were why men breathe— because my father lived his soul love is the whole and more than all

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

To be the father unto many sons.

To a father growing old nothing is dearer than a daughter.

When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.