I tried to calculate the cost of everything my mother did for me—the driving, the cooking, the worrying. I realized the only honest answer is priceless.

My mom gave me two simple rules: Mind your manners and Never start a fight, but always finish one if you have to.

My mom is the only person who can scold me for five minutes, then spend the next hour making sure I know she loves me.

She gave me the confidence to leave home, but the love that always brings me back.

My mom didn't raise a victim. She raised someone who knew how to pick himself up, dust himself off, and apologize.

The moment she smiles after I tell her I'm okay—that's the most powerful affirmation a man can get.

You don't understand the depth of her planning until you're a parent yourself and realize she had the entire week mapped out while looking completely relaxed.

My mom gave me two simple rules: Mind your manners and Never start a fight, but always finish one if you have to.

She never needed to yell. Just the look of disappointment was enough to set me straight faster than any grounding.

The truth is, even as a grown man, when the world gets loud, I still just want to hear my mother's voice on the other end of the phone.

She has this way of making even the smallest, most ordinary moments—like a Sunday dinner or a drive home—feel like the most important place to be.

My biggest fear as a kid was disappointing her. Now, my biggest goal as an adult is simply to make her proud.

I learned how to treat a woman not from movies or books, but by watching my father treat my mother.

I got all my toughness from my dad, but the courage to be kind when it was hard—that came solely from my mother.

Every good man I've met has the same look of unconditional love and respect in his eyes when he talks about his mother.

I watched her forgive people who didn't deserve it. It taught me that holding a grudge is a heavier burden on the person carrying it.

My mom is the reason I know the difference between being busy and being productive.

She taught me how to apologize and mean it. That simple lesson saved me in more relationships than any advice on money or career.

I tried to calculate the cost of everything my mother did for me—the driving, the cooking, the worrying. I realized the only honest answer is priceless.

She has a sixth sense for when things are wrong. I can be happy on the outside, but she’ll ask, What are you really worried about?