I think this is every mother's worst nightmare - something dreadful happening to her child.

I wish I could tell him I understand: the higher you raise your hopes, the farther you have to fall.

If you live in each other's pockets long enough, you're related.

You live and let live, eventually that becomes enough.

I think people do things all the time in the name of love that they shouldn't be doing - such is the nature of us.

Does fate ever play by the rules?

Rest easy, real mothers. The very fact that you worry about being a good mom means that you already are one.