Quotes About Children

Children?—that would be the most desperate experiment of all. The most desperate, and perhaps the only one having any chance of being successful.

Or consider another field where one can use games to implant an understanding of basic principles. All scientific thinking is in terms of probability. The old eternal verities are merely a high degree of likeliness; the immutable laws of nature are just statistical averages. How does one get these profoundly unobvious notions into children's heads? By playing roulette with them, by spinning coins and drawing lots. By teaching them all kinds of games with cards and boards and dice.

Usted tiene hijos? -No. -¿Por qué? El hombre respondió que, para tener hijos era necesario tener confianza en el mundo

Bisogna avere fiducia nel mondo per fare dei figli.

Hemos removido la tierra de una forma tan violenta que hemos vuelto a despertar la crueldad de los niños

Nobody went to bed at seven in Paris, even French children. Les enfants stayed up late at night, he had heard, eating with the adults, sipping red wine, and discussing the latest books and films.

We were, when all was said and done, children lost in the wood, and to break into tears was the most understandable of reactions, the most quintessentially human one too.

Down below, amongst children, ice cream and chocolate are the bargaining chips supreme, as powerful as money and military force are amongst adults.

Even a battlefield can be peaceful, can be a place for flowers to grow, for children to play; the memories, the sadness, are within us, not part of the world about us.

I'm taking on another person's memories, another person's family, another person's life. Love obscured all of that because if it did not, then nobody would marry at all, and there had to be marriage, didn't there, if people wanted to continue, have children, keep everything going…

Most children have become very surly. That is because they are not taught to think about others any more. They are, quite simply, spoiled.

she had not had the time to love her children, because all her energy was spent in simply keeping them alive.

Mma Lentswe looked into her teacup. "Children say these things. They never admit they did anything. I was a teacher, Mma—I know that.

We assume so much, don't we? We assume that our children are going to be reasonable. We assume they're going to see things as we see them. And then suddenly we discover that they can look at things quite differently.

The physical world—the world of stone and brick—is indifferent to our suffering, to our dramas, she thought. Even a battlefield can be peaceful, can be a place for flowers to grow, for children to play; the memories, the sadness, are within us, not part of the world about us.

Mothers need to be ambitious for their children otherwise. . .well, nobody would ever learn the piano.

was particularly hard for women now, when there were so many children left without

Moral Philosophy for two-year-olds, she thought. Don't throw food . It was as good a starting point as any to begin the teaching of responsibility towards the world around us. And it was helpful to back it up with some justification too: That's not nice . Again, a simple expression said it all.

There were many suggestions as to improvements: the addition of a window here and a door there, the insertion of an extra basin for the children to wash their hands before they handled the books—"An excellent, practical suggestion," said the principal—and then several views were expressed as to the colour of the walls, the roof, and the shelving.

The schools wear the blank faces of war buildings, their windows blown blind by rocks or guns or mortars. Their plaster is an acne of bullet marks. The huts and small houses crouch open and vulnerable; their doors are flimsy pieces of plyboard or sacks hanging and lank. Children and chickens and dogs scratch in the red, raw soil and stare at us as we drive through their open, eroding lives.

Groups satisfy our brain's natural inclination to make sense of hordes of people we encounter and observe. This quality is so inherent that children intuitively understand the need to form groups without adults having to teach them.

How is it that little children are so intelligent and men so stupid? It must be education that does it

for, however all other feelings may be withered in a woman's nature, there is always one bright smiling spot in the maternal breast, and that is where a dearly-beloved child is concerned.

Shinto is nature. Perhaps animism—and Shinto is the only formal animistic religion left—is the true religion. It has roots deep in all of us. One recognizes this. It is the only religion that can inspire the feeling children know when the wind or a rock is made god for a week or a day. Its essence is unknown and unknowable, yet this unknown does not exclude us because we too are unknown. This religion speaks to us, to something in us which is deep and permanent.