Fatherhood Quote by Lizzie Andrew Borden

It reads like a sentence trying to be as small as possible. Borden’s voice is domestic, dutiful, almost aggressively ordinary: coming home from church, on a Thursday, in winter. The details aren’t there to paint a scene so much as to shrink the speaker’s responsibility. Time-stamps and routines (church, evening, winter) build an alibi-shaped world where nothing should happen except the familiar.

Then comes the jolt: “I saw somebody run around the house again.” The word “again” is the tell. It doesn’t introduce a one-off scare; it quietly smuggles in a pattern, the idea of a recurring threat. That move does two things at once. It invites you to read the house as already permeable, already watched, while also normalizing the intrusion as something that can be reported without panic. Somebody, not a person. Run around, not break in. The language keeps the danger in soft focus.

The last clause is the real power play: “I told my father of that.” In a single line, she shifts the narrative from her perception to his authority. It’s an appeal to patriarchal procedure: I observed, I reported, I did my part. Given the Borden case’s notoriety, that’s not just a family anecdote; it’s a preemptive posture. If something later goes wrong, the warning existed, and it was dutifully passed upward.

Celebrity here isn’t glamour; it’s infamy. The quote works because it performs innocence through banality, while planting the seed of an outside menace the listener can’t verify, only remember.