Quotes About Birth

Maybe I was just lucky, but I had the best pregnancy, and I loved giving birth. It was just the most amazing thing, so surreal but so real.

We'd been living at Grandpa's for a little more than a year when Mrs. Crandel died. And the next day Kate Helen Branch had a baby. Uncle Burley said that was just the way things were. They put one in and pull another one out.

Ask yourself:...Will this disturb the sleep of a woman near to giving birth...

A spring wind blowing the smell of the ground through the intersections of traffic, the mind turns, seeks a new nativity- another place, simpler, less weighted by what has already been.

man lives not for the fulfilment of his destiny, not for the incarnation of an idea, not for progress, but solely because he was born;

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar …" —WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, "Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

it will always remain my private persuasion that Nature was absorbed in making cabbages when Mrs. Vesey was born, and that the good lady suffered the consequences of a vegetable preoccupation in the mind of the Mother of us all.

There's a bottom of good sense, Mr. Franklin, in our conduct to our mothers, when they first start us on the journey of life. We are all of us more or less unwilling to be brought into the world. And we are all of us right.

Starting from this point of view, it will always remain my private persuasion that Nature was absorbed in making cabbages when Mrs. Vesey was born, and that the good lady suffered the consequences of a vegetable preoccupation in the mind of the Mother of us all.

There's a bottom of good sense, Mr. Franklin, in our conduct to our mothers, when they first start us on the journey of life. We are all of us more or less unwilling to be brought into the world. And we are all of us right.

Apparently beauty is born in suffering, and wisdom is the child of grief.

How could this sense of right survive if it were not that in our hearts we feel this life to be only a part of life, this earthly dream only an embryonic prelude to a new birth, a new awakening;

for every deliberate death there are thousands of indeliberate births.

Before Aristotle, science was in embryo; with him it was born.

What crime have these children committed that they should be born? If

You were born out of death - and will collapse back into its entropic embrace. The future is yet to be born, the past is ashes - and the present expires even as we cradle it to our wanting breast.

My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt.

I have no name I am but two days old.- What shall I call thee? I happy am Joy is my name,- Sweet joy befell thee! Pretty joy! Sweet joy but two days old. Sweet joy I call thee: Thou dost smile. I sing the while Sweet joy befell thee. - Infant Joy

Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth.

Whate'er is born of mortal birth    Must be consumed with the earth

INFANT SORROW    My mother groaned, my father wept:    Into the dangerous world I leapt,    Helpless, naked, piping loud,    Like a fiend hid in a cloud.    Struggling in my father's hands,    Striving against my swaddling-bands,    Bound and weary, I thought best    To sulk upon my mother's breast.

My mother groand! my father wept. Into the dangerous world I leapt: Helpless, naked, piping loud; Like a fiend hid in a cloud. Struggling in my fathers hands: Striving against my swaddling bands: Bound and weary I thought best To sulk upon my mothers breast.

My mother groand! my father wept. Into the dangerous world I leapt William Blake: Infant Sorrow

I have no name: I am but two days old.