Quotes About Childhood

He seemed to remember a sense of fearlessness as a child, for lacking the knowledge of death, he supposed, for still believing bad things happened only to other people. How long you held on to that particular belief depended on where you were born.

I spent half my childhood in the shadows. Hiding from my father or my brother. Creeping from a place of solitude to another. Seeing while unseen, and pretending I was a part of what I saw. Making up a life where I wasn't an outcast.

Gorm's minister frowned up at them. Interested, but not wanting to seem interested. "Don't toy with me, boy." "Never been much good at toying," said Brand. "I had a short childhood." Mother

I remember a little girl who had a white rabbit coat and hat and muff. Actually, I don't remember the little girl. I remember the coat and the hat and the muff.

I worry whether it's not really the best way to live one's life - trying to fulfill the dreams you had as a child. Maybe it's quite a backwards approach.

I went to school at this log school house. A white woman was my teacher, I do not remember her name. My father had to pay her one dollar a month for me. Us kids that went to school did not have desks, we used slates and set on the hued down logs for seats.

Already, though, she understood the difference between being a child and being an adult. The difference is when someone says he can keep the bad things away, a child believes him.

Harper said, "But Snuffleupagus was real." "That is the most wonderful sentence I have ever heard. I want that on my gravestone. Snuffleupagus was real. No more. Just that.

Spit spot was a favorite of Mary Poppins, and Harper had, since childhood, liked to substitute Julie Andrews–isms for profanity whenever possible. It gave her a steely feeling of control and reminded her of her best self at the same time.

Snuffleupagus was real. No

A pergunta era: o que uma criança quer da mãe? Sua resposta era: Band-Aids para os machucados, uma música na hora de dormir, gentileza, algo doce para comer depois da escola, alguém para ajudar com o dever de casa, alguém junto a quem se aconchegar.

the Brat—Victoria to her second-grade teacher, Vicki to her mother, but the Brat to her father and in her heart—was

I want that on my gravestone. Snuffleupagus was real. No more. Just that.

It was a childhood of mud, barking dogs, barbed wire, dilapidated farm buildings, squealing pigs with their flaking skin and squashed-in faces, and little human contact, beyond a mother who sat most of the day at the kitchen table wearing the slack, staring aspect of someone who had been lobotomized, and his father, who ruled their acres of pig shit and ruin with his angry laughter and his fists.

Susannah had a toy stethoscope, which she would press to his head, in an attempt to listen in on his thoughts.

Above the dirt of an unmarked grave and beneath the shadow of the abandoned refinery, the children would play their own made up games: Wild West Accountants! in which they would calculate the loss of a shipment of gold stolen from an imaginary stagecoach, or Recently Divorced Scientists! in which they would build a super-collider out of garbage to try and win back their recently lost loves.

Childhood is that wonderful time when all you need to do to lose weight is take a bath.

If you are a parent, teacher, camp counselor, or school resource officer and you see children severely change or restrain their arm behavior around their parents or other adults, at a minimum it should arouse your interest and promote further observation. Cessation of arm movement is part of the limbic system's freeze response. To the abused child, this adaptive behavior can mean survival.

When I can 10 or 11, my mom was the one out there catching passes for me. She was my prime receiver.

When a child's needs are not met (because they conflict with those of its caretakers), the child's boundaries become defined by the needs of others, limiting the development of the sense of "self." The child does not learn to experience its own needs; it experiences only the needs of others. This blurs the boundaries between the child and others, ultimately preventing the child from differentiating its own needs from those of others.

As a child, I learned that books can set you free, an encyclopaedia held over my head, waiting in the dark as he crept into my room.

Ne podetinji ljude starost, ko sto se kaze, no samo jos ko pravu decu zatice nas.

Starost nas ne podetinji; izraz je loš - starost nas zati?e ko pravu decu još.

for each traumatic event that happened to a child, they were two to four times more likely to grow up to be an addicted adult.