In chronological order:
"Did the little baby have a nightmare last night? Poor baby, go and sit down and try not to cry." My Year 7 teacher, in front of the whole class. She called me 'baby' for the rest of the year.
"You're going to be awake for this," said to me by the anaesthetist, during my c/s. I was almost unconscious, but he was determined I'd be awake for her birth. I was. It was tremendous.
"Mmm...mmm...MUM!" DD, aged almost two and a half years. She'd communicated by patting certain items or bringing things to show me until then. Always silent, unless she was laughing or crying. It was such a relief, even if she remained mostly silent, I knew she could. She's a real chatterbox now, and has no idea how worried I was.
"He took advantage of you, he pressured you into sex, and if I ever see him again I'll spit on his feet." DH, about an ex. I always thought I'd deserved everything. He was so, so angry that someone had hurt me. Nobody had ever been angry on my behalf before.
"Everything is moving towards fine," DH, on many, many occasions. Pulls me out of a spiral, every time. It's moving towards fine.
"You can get off the train." My counsellor, telling me that I could, actually, choose to allow the anxiety to pass me by. It wasn't obligatory. And now I watch the train roll past, and flip it the bird on the way.