Quotes About Childhood

Jsou dvÄ› magická slova, jež udávají, jak dítÄ› vstupuje ve vztah ke svému okolí, a to: napodobení a vzor. Ã…Ëœecký filozof Aristoteles nazval ?lovÄ›ka nejnapodobivÄ›jÅ¡ím zvíÃ…â"¢etem; pro žádný jiný vÄ›k neplatí tento výrok víc než pro dÄ›tství až do výmÄ›ny zub?.

Je-li v takovéto atmosféÃ…â"¢e lásky možné napodobování zdravých vzor?, pak je dítÄ› ve svém správném elementu. MÄ›lo by se proto pÃ…â"¢ísnÄ› dohlížet na to, aby se v okolí dítÄ›te nedÄ›lo nic, o ?em bychom pak museli dítÄ›ti Ã…â"¢íkat: To nesmíÅ¡ dÄ›lat!

Tak jako dítÄ›ti do sedmého roku musíme dávat fyzický vzor, tak musí být do okolí vyvíjejícího se ?lovÄ›ka mezi výmÄ›nou zub? a pohlavním dozráním vnáÅ¡eno vÅ¡echno to, jehož vnitÃ…â"¢ním smyslem a hodnotami se m?že Ã…â"¢ídit. Nyní je na místÄ› to, co je naplnÄ›no smyslem a co p?sobí obrazem a podobenstvím.

But in the end, magic is magic, and one does not explain it so easily. That is why it is magic. To the child it is natural, but as for the grown man it loses its naturalness-- so as old men we see a different reality. And when we dream it is usually for a lost childhood, or trying to change someone, and that is not good. So, in the end, I accept reality-

An unhappy childhood was not) an unsuitable preparation for my future, in that it demanded a constant wariness, the habit of observation, and the attendance on moods and tempers; the noting of discrepancies between speech and action; a certain reserve of demeanour; and automatic suspicion of sudden favours.

Directly in front of him, holding on by a low branch, stood a naked brown baby who could just walk—as soft and as dimpled a little atom as ever came to a wolf's cave at night. He looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed.

So Mowgli sat and cried as though his heart would break; and he had never cried in all his life before.

Rudyard Kipling

the village. There he saw a little girl holding

If you cross examine a child of seven or eight on his day's doings (specially when he wants to go to sleep), he will contradict himself very satisfactorily. If each contradiction be set down as a lie and retailed at breakfast, life is not easy. I have known a certain amount of bullying, but this was calculated torture - religious as well as scientific.

THE JUNGLE BOOK

Rudyard Kipling

What is all this talk of elephants and seals?' asked Frog. 'It's nonsense', said the father, 'and yet it's not the child's fault. Our motor is in me. He fills the empty space inside himself with foolish dreams that cannot possibly come true'.

When I was a child grown-ups often told me to smile, which I found presumptuous of them. People still tell me that sometimes, mostly idiots at parties.

The grown-up is only a thin coat of chocolate over the hard nut of the child. Whatever you were as a kid, you still are when the chocolate gets licked off or scraped off.

They knew how to make a spoon that was exactly the right shape to hold in your hand and put into your mouth, even if your hands were still small and your mouth was little.

Finally I achieved my goal and resolved my childhood obsession with now because that's what a drum does. When you beat a drum, you create NOW, when silence becomes a sound so enormous and alive it feels like you're breathing in the clouds and the sky, and your heart is the rain and the thunder. Jiko says that this is an example of the time being. Sound and no-sound. Thunder and silence.

Pencils have stories inside them, and they're safe as long as you don't stick the point in your ear.

But sometimes we'd spin the moon, and you had to close your eyes and put your finger down to make the spinning stop, and wherever your finger landed, that was your spot, and you had to make up a story about it. It was a good game, but then Mom landed in the Sea of Crisis three times in a row, and Dad kept landing in these tiny places like the Marsh of Diseases and the Lake of Death. He thought it was funny, but it freaked Mom out, so we stopped playing.

That's the most terrible thing about being a child; you're convinced that it's all your fault. Lulu

He invited me to his apartment in the wee hours one morning and pulled out a set of children's building blocks. It seems he used to ride around and around on the Yamanote Line with them, building castles on the floor of the train.

We sat side by side on the swings. The creaking sound they made seemed sexier to me than a Jimi Hendrix guitar solo.

Over the previous four days I had prepared my answers to all the questions I thought she might ask. Such is the wisdom—or the sad compulsion—of someone who was semi-autistic as a child.

A los doce años, James Joyce escribía cartas dignas de atención; yo, con la misma edad, corría por el campo en pos de las vacas y no había leído un solo libro.