Thirteen, 13 children, and I love - I love them all. And I think

The words of Anthony Quinn, “Thirteen, 13 children, and I love—I love them all. And I think I’ve been a good father to all of them,” rise from the heart of a man who lived greatly and loved deeply. In them we hear not merely the pride of a parent, but the confession of a soul who has poured himself into life without restraint. Thirteen children—a number that would daunt most, but to Quinn, it was a symbol of abundance, of vitality, of life’s overflowing cup. His words speak to the ancient truth that fatherhood is not measured in perfection but in devotion, not in control but in love. To be a good father, he suggests, is to give all that one is—to nurture, to guide, to forgive, and to never stop loving, no matter the number or the distance.

Born in poverty in Mexico and raised in hardship, Anthony Quinn understood the value of struggle, of perseverance, and of the family that binds one’s heart even through chaos. He rose from humble beginnings to become one of the most celebrated actors of his age, his life as vast and dramatic as the characters he portrayed. Yet amidst all the applause, he never lost sight of his truest role: that of a father. His declaration is not one of vanity, but of gratitude. It is the voice of a man who has lived long enough to see that fame fades, fortune wanes, but the love of children endures. For what greater legacy can a man leave than the generations that carry his light forward?

In the ancient world, fatherhood was often regarded as sacred duty—a bond between the mortal and the divine. The Greeks saw the father as the bridge between heaven and earth, the one who imparts wisdom, discipline, and strength. To love one’s children, as Quinn proclaims, is not merely to feel affection—it is to participate in the eternal act of creation, to mirror the generosity of the Creator Himself. And to have thirteen children, to love each one uniquely and wholly, is to live this truth in its fullest expression. His love was not divided by number; it was multiplied by it. Like the sun that shines on every face without choosing one over another, a true father’s heart has no boundaries.

Consider the story of King Priam of Troy, who fathered fifty sons and many daughters. Though his house was filled with conflict and sorrow, his love for his children remained steadfast. When his beloved son Hector fell before the wrath of Achilles, Priam—an old man, once proud and mighty—walked unarmed into the enemy’s camp to beg for his son’s body. In that act, history saw not a king, but a father. He knelt before the slayer of his child, not as ruler to warrior, but as man to man. And in that moment, Achilles himself was moved to tears. So too does Anthony Quinn’s declaration carry the same spirit—that fatherhood is the highest courage, the willingness to humble oneself for the sake of love.

To be a good father, as Quinn says, is not to be flawless, but to be faithful. He had known mistakes and heartbreaks, yet through them, he remained anchored in affection. His words remind us that love, in its truest form, is not earned by perfection—it is given through persistence. The measure of a father lies not in wealth or power, but in presence. It is in the hands that build, the arms that protect, the words that guide, and the heart that forgives again and again. The good father is the living testament that love is stronger than failure, that devotion outlasts time.

In our age, where family ties often fray under the weight of ambition and distraction, Quinn’s words call us back to the foundations of life. They remind us that to love deeply is to live fully, and that no success can equal the quiet joy of being loved in return by one’s children. Whether one has many children or few, the principle is the same: love each one as if they are the only one. Be present in their laughter, patient in their mistakes, steadfast in their storms. For the world will one day forget the crowns and achievements of men, but it will never forget the warmth of a father’s heart.

So, my listener, learn from Anthony Quinn’s truth: that to love abundantly is the mark of greatness. The father’s love—like the ocean—is vast enough to hold all who enter it. Do not count your blessings in numbers, but in the depth with which you give yourself to them. Whether you guide one soul or thirteen, be as the oak that shelters all beneath its branches. For in the end, the measure of a life well-lived is not in what one gathers, but in whom one has loved, and how deeply.

Thus, the legacy of Anthony Quinn is not merely his films or fame—it is his love, multiplied thirteenfold. His words endure as a hymn to fatherhood itself, reminding us that to love one’s children wholly and without end is to touch eternity. And that, above all, is the work of a good father.