Quotes About Innocence

And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine.

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers-- And that cannot stop their tears.

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,Ere the sorrow comes with years?

Butter wouldn't have melted my smile, I swear.

When has the Light ever been gentle to innocence?

He smiled, the cherub with a wicked secret.

and looked and looked our infant sight away.

Every great legend is at its heart a tale of innocence lost, and perhaps that was the role I was destined to play.

The soul of a child is the loveliest flower that grows in the garden of God.

It is when children start to question their happiness that they lose it and grow up.

The small children and the very old, with the stuff of life hardly yet grasped or perforce nearly relinquished, were protected and secure and could enjoy their dreams and illusions immune from the daily wear and tear. And how lucky they were!

He saw a boy pull something long and squirming from the ground and pop it into his mouth.

Why would he want to put a stain on a white sheet? Why would he want to taint a love that has never been crushed? Why would he want to see her intoxicated then leave her in the morning to fend for herself? Why would he want to ruin innocence?

There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again.

My first baby looked neither new nor old. He was otherworldly, like a pure ray of intelligence, like an innocent visitor from a more benevolent planet.

on the tiny counter. "Playing? If that's what you

It had been worse when he realised he wanted all of her, the laughter he had destroyed, the unconscious pride and dignity he had trampled and the sweet, innocent passion he had shamed.

she arrived. For only someone with a heart as dark as mine could do something so evil to a girl with a heart as light as Aurora's.

That's you, right?' he asks me. 'Yeah.' 'Cute. Not that I, uh, think little kids are cute. Just that you were cute. I mean, you can see how you turned out to be so...oh.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She took long showers every night, swimming in the water rushing over her and washing her hair till it squeaked when she ran her hands down it, parents sighing why do you have to be so clean? It was like she knew, in a way. Like that water was grace and soon she would not be able to find it. Soon nothing would make her more than what she was. Nothing would make her whole.

I didn't understand most of what he was saying. I should have had to understand what he was saying. I was still so young. And I certainly should not have had to learn it this way!

But once in a while I see a child crying with the deepest of desperation, and I think it is one of the truest sounds a child can make.

Somehow, Suzanne had remained uncorrupted; her guilelessness in talking to him was a gift of no small proportion.

They are "guilty," "not guilty," and "not proven," which jurors invoke when they decide the prosecution has failed to make a compelling case even when the prisoner is obviously guilty.