Quotes About Childhood

She got mad and sent me to bed with one supper instead of the usual three.

The two of us did everything together since we became best friends in fifth grade.

If you learn to be true in childhood, you will bypass the devastating 'undoing' so many endure later. You won't have to reinvent, reimagine, or rediscover who you are in your twenties, when you are making the most important decisions of your life (a terrible time for an identity crisis).

I bet our kiddos are sturdier than we think. Maybe they don't need every gadget and advantage. Maybe kids grow like all humans do: through struggle, failure, and perseverance. They might have a gear we didn't know about and don't need to be coddled like fragile hothouse plants that can't adapt to new environments. I bet the kids will surprise us.

Our subconscious mind is like a little kid who doesn't know any better and, not coincidentally, receives most of its information when we're little kids and don't know any better (because our frontal lobes, the conscious part of our brains, hasn't fully formed yet).

Kids get so wrapped up in the joy of drawing or pretending or discovering that they'd rarely eat or bathe or sleep if we didn't make them.

The Big Snooze operates according to your limiting false beliefs. This is the garbage that was stuffed into your subconscious as a kid that doesn't ring true for you.

I sat parked for a while in the parent pickup lot, watching a bunch of little kids run relays up and down the field. To be nine years old. To have life simply about family and friends and who was mad at who and which games you wanted to play at recess, and getting gold stars on spelling tests, an feeling that first crush. Laurel, you had everything back then, and you didn't even know it.

As a child, she'd thought all the noise and commotion was the most wild, wonderful game, but as she'd grown older, she understood why everyone rushed around so: they were chasing a story.

A veces todavía veo a aquella chiquilla en mi imaginación. Corre y ríe con sus gastados calzones y su levita prestada. Da vueltas por el Patio de Mármol, emocionada por su buena fortuna. Veo a esa chiquilla, pero no la reconozco.

You had better not," I shouted after him."Do you hear me,O'Malley? I will tell Gavin's sister you slept with a stuffed bunny abbit until you were in middle school,so help me God!

Phoebe burst into tears. For several minutes she stood weeping in the middle of the road, the choking, gulping sobs of childhood. Something was wrong; something was wrong but she didn't know what. She was alone in the middle of nowhere, behaving strangely, with no one around to help her, and what people were around she wanted only to escape.

hopscotch, jump rope, charm bracelets, buried treasure, Harriet the Spying, blood sisters, crank calls, pot, coke, quaaludes.

His eyes weren't closed like they used to be when he'd make Danny tell about an ice castle on Pluto where a band of pirates lived. But wanting to be told a story, entertained, however that looks on a person's face--Danny saw this now and remembered it. It filled him with relief.

As children, Grace and I liked to pretend our life was a movie projected onto a giant screen before an audience who watched, rapt, as we ate our pork chops and finished our homework and went to sleep side by side in our twin beds, Grace rising to shut the closet door if I left it open. Gradually, mysteriously, that fantasy evolved into a vocation--I came to imagine my future not in terms of anything I might do or accomplish, but the notoriety that would follow.

Coming home in the almost dark made him feel grown up--a taste of grown-up life. Looking back, that seemed like one of the best parts of being a kid.

At Playland, Eddie and the little boys had ridden potato sacks down long wooden slides, getting friction burns where a knee or an elbow dragged against the wood. The fun-house floor was pocked with holes through which loud blasts of air (fired by some hidden wiseacre) were meant to lift girls' skirts. Ingrid had a horror of these blasts, and she clung to Eddie, laughing.

A bright moon can astonish, no matter how many times you have seen it. If you were a child who loved the moon, looking at the moon will remind you of childhood. Fatherless girls may invest the moon with a certain paternal promise. Everyone has a father. A vague story like "Your father died before you were born" may satisfy even a canny child for an unlikely number of years. The truth of your paternity, discovered in adulthood, will make the lie seem retroactively ludicrous.

Monster a person though monster not human. Monster like music. Like Beatles! Like Schumann! World full of stupid. World full of noise. Monster feel ANGRY. No birthday. No joys. World full of JUNK monster not comprehend. What is a childhood? What is a friend? Monster and human both want the same. Want conversation. Want love. WANT NO PAIN. If monster speak heart: monster life only worsen. Monster not human: BUT MONSTER A PERSON!

I remember, my mom didn't have any help, so if she needed to be somewhere after school, we'd just go down to the neighbors' and she'd give us a snack and make sure we did our homework. There weren't any latchkey kids.

Driving east into the bright sun, he'd been dogged by a creeping sense of déjà vu, but it wasn't until Kath called to Aidan—Help Father with the cooler!—that he recognized the scene from his own childhood. How strange, how disorienting, to find himself in the man's seat, driving, when in his mind he was still the little boy.

The events of his childhood had never left him. Instead the memory had grown watery, indistinct, like something he'd dreamed. Abused, molested: these were not terms he used, even to himself.

The air smelled of sweet ocean, a special thing. As a little girl she'd identified a half dozen ways the sea could smell, briny or fishy or sandy or green. A few times each summer, for reasons she couldn't explain, the breeze smelled of molasses, dark and sweet. ….

we lied half as much as grown-ups do, we'd be in time-out forever.