Quotes About Innocence

When I asked my parents how the baby got inside Ma, they both laughed, and then Daddy told me they had made it with their bodies. I pictured them fully clothed, rubbing furiously against each other, like two sticks making fire.

Zinnia always wants to hug me and pat me because she has a boy my same age named Melvin. I said maybe some day Melvin could come play at our farm, and I could bring him to the maze and show him the shortcuts. Zinnia started crying. That's when I seen that she has freckles.

and yet she continues to skip rope in my mind and on my canvases, raising her dark, hopeful face to the sky, innocent of the depth of people's cruelty toward "the other"—those who, for whatever reason, must swim against the tide instead of letting it carry them. . . .

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is, any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.

Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.

Wonderful to depart! Wonderful to be here! The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood! To breathe the air, how delicious! To speak—to walk—to seize something by the hand! To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh! To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large! To be this incredible God I am! To have gone forth among other Gods, these men and women I love. - from Song at Sunset

Diam dan kagum, ketika aku kecil, Aku ingat saat mendengar pendeta tiap hari Minggu memasukkan Tuhan ke dalam pernyataan, Walt Whitman

What did I do? I walked into a drugstore to look for some mints, and then I walked out. What was wrong with that? I didn't kill Mr. Nesbitt.

Instead of trying to produce a programme to simulate the adult mind, why not rather try to produce one which simulates the child's?

Instead of trying to produce a programme to simulate the adult mind, why not rather try to produce one which simulates the child's?" he asked. "If this were then subjected to an appropriate course of education, one would obtain the adult brain.

Conserve la capacidad de asombro de un niño.

Retain a childlike sense of wonder. At a certain point in life, most of us quit puzzling over everyday phenomena. We might savor the beauty of a blue sky, but we no longer bother to wonder why it is that color. Leonardo did. So did Einstein, who wrote to another friend, "You and I never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born."5 We should be careful to never outgrow our wonder years, or to let our children do so.

Everybody was screaming for joy. That's what children do - they scream because life is just too much for them but they don't know it yet.

What if' is fo' chirrens, Easy. You's a man.

to be innocent of ill is no security ;

If the U.S. foreign policy results in massive death and destruction abroad, they cannot feign innocence when some of that destruction is returned. On 9/11/2001, Americans noticed that payback can be a real motherfucker.

TRUTH comes easier when you're nine years old, too. Everything's a lot less complicated. This or that. Us or them. Truth or lie.

See that you don't look down on one of these little ones, because I tell you that in heaven their angels continually view the face of My Father in heaven" (Matthew 18:10).

El que todavía estaba avergonzado por sostener mi mano dos días antes de entrar a segundo grado. El que todavía era demasiado tímido para decir mucho más que hola. El que todavía estaba caminando por ahí con mi primer beso.

Mirando atrás hacia segundo grado, me gusta pensar que era por lo mejor en parte la curiosidad científica lo que me hacía perseguir es beso, pero para ser honesta, eran probablemente más esos ojos azules.

When you are old you can look back and see yourself when you are young. It is almost like looking down from heaven. And you see yourself as a young woman, just a big girl really, half awake to the world. You see yourself happy, holding in your arms a good, decent, gentle, beloved young man with the blood keen in his veins, who before long is going to disappear, just disappear, into a storm of hate and flying metal and fire. And you just don't know it.

He that is conscious of guilt cannot bear the innocence of others:So they will try to reduce all others to their own level.

What matters? Lives of the good and the great, the innocence of dogs, the cunning of cats, the elegance of nature, the wonders of space, the perfectly thrown outfield assist, the difference between historical guilt and historical responsibility, homage and sacrilege in monumental architecture, fashions and follies and the finer uses of the F-word.