Brie Bella Quotes

I know that a mother, no matter how impoverished or uneducated, will do anything to save her babies.

I'm somebody who, if I went to the grocery store, and one of them wasn't with me, I would feel guilty. I would be like, 'I shouldn't be doing anything without them, anytime, ever.' A very codependent way of thinking. Also, motherhood is hugely about guilt.

I used to think that only a mother could provide unconditional love and make sacrifices.

If you begin to give away parts of yourself, eventually you'll give it all. And once you've lost yourself, haven't you lost everything?

Most of us would do more for our babies than we have ever been willing to do for anyone, even ourselves.

You make sacrifices to become a mother, but you really find yourself and your soul.

I don't mean to be presumptuous that men don't feel this, I don't mean this, but I found that when my child was born, my first child, it felt like my heart broke.

The best part of being a mom to me is the unconditional love. I have never felt a love as pure, a love that's as rewarding.

As any mother knows, we just want our babies to feel better quickly, and we all do whatever we have to do to help them - no matter how much it inconveniences us or hurts our backs!

I'm attached to my children with whatever flaws they have, and if some glorious angel broke through the living room ceiling and offered to exchange them for other, better children, I'd cling to my kids and pray away this specter.

No one tells you that your life is effectively over when you have a child: that you're never going to draw another complacent breath again... or that whatever level of hypochondria and rage you'd learned to repress and live with is going to seem like the good old days.

Once you have children it's love without bounds. You would die for them in an instant, without question. How can you better that?

You have to love your children unselfishly. That's hard. But it's the only way.

I don't want to sound corny; everyone tells you what it's going to be like to have kids and you're like, 'Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure.' And then you have kids, and in an instant nothing in the world matters except for this stranger, because this person comes into the world and in an instant all your focus and priorities becomes these kids.

Having children showed me a whole different kind of love that I had never known. It was something that had always been missing. Complete love. I would die for them.

I think there is a moment in every parent's life where we realize that we have lost ourselves a little bit. It's a moment of looking in the mirror and going, 'I need to put on some lipstick.'

I'm getting asked a lot, 'You don't have kids, so how do you know how to act like a mother?' I know nothing could compare, and I haven't had that experience, but when my niece was born, I felt like I would jump in front of a car and die for this little person I didn't even know yet.

I am a mother first. I will always be a mother, and I would die for my kids if need be.

Everyone has a 'Majnu' in them. It's not about the sad or happy climax. It's a term we use to define someone who falls in love and faces problems.

Aren't you afraid?' 'Of what?' 'Of losing yourself.' 'That's what I'm hoping for.

I used to be somebody. Now I’m somebody else.

It is always difficult to give oneself up; few persons anywhere ever succeed in doing so, and even fewer transcend the possessive stage to know love for what it actually is: a perpetual discovery, and immersion in the waters of reality, an unending re-creation.

Having a baby is like a DUI from the universe.

I went through some tough times because if you're used to having a voice in contemporary culture and all of sudden, you don't have that voice, you don't have that outlet. I didn't appreciate that. I didn't understand how important that was to me. And all of a sudden, after investing all this time and energy, I had no identity. I didn't know who I was. I didn't know what I had to say. I didn't have a way to say it. It was very painful.

I struggle with enormous discrepancies: between the reality of motherhood and the image of it, between my love for my home and the need to travel, between the varied and seductive paths of the heart. The lessons of impermanance, the occasional despair and the muse, so tenuously moored, all visit their needs upon me and I dig deeply for the spiritual utilities that restore me: my love for the place, for the one man left, for my children and friends and the great green pulse of spring.