Quotes About Childhood

a lovely little creature of three or four with a joyous bounce in her step and an inextinguishable sparkle of happiness twinkling in her eyes.

After all, inside every woman, no matter how grown up she is, there is still a frightened little girl.

In my childhood, America was like a religion. Then, real-life Americans abruptly entered my life - in jeeps - and upset all my dreams.

I was never famous as a kid. That's the biggest difference between me and any other kid actor is that I wasn't famous as a kid.

When I was a child, I saw God, I saw angels; I watched the mysteries of the higher and lower worlds. I thought all men saw the same. At last I realized that they did not see.…

I'm ashamed to say this, but I watched every episode of 'Starsky and Hutch' as a kid. I loved that show, but now I think it's stupid - they'd have a car chase for no reason, then Paul Michael Glaser would shoot the car and it would blow up.

we used to stay inside for recess because outside was worse

Razo was sorely tempted to assert that all was true and he'd lost his horns and tail in a tragic childhood accident

In some ways, I don't feel as if I had a choice. Looking back at my childhood, even before I could read and write, I was making up stories. I love reading and I love telling stories, and the times in my life when I've tried to ignore that part of me, I've gone a little crazy. Characters start tugging on my sleeves, words start haunting me, and I feel generally unsatisfied. Really, being a writer sounds more like a mental illness than a professional choice.

Pobrecita niña. ¿Tu padre te mintió cuando eras un retoño de bruja? ¿Te aseguró que tenías un buen corazón y que, si querías cuando crecieras podrías llegar a ser tan buena, estúpida y aburrida como él.

Her mother had certainly made her childhood interesting. In those days, the castle was always crowded with soldiers in spiked armor and creatures that scurried through shadows and hissed at her. Quality time with Mother had included sitting on her lap while the queen met with her generals and hatched plots to kill, conquer, and rule, or spending hours in the dungeon workshop, coughing on smoke and helping Mother make toxic potions and evil spells.

You've always been independent. And stubborn about it. You were only four years old when you told me you didn't need me to tuck you in anymore and you could do it yourself. I could never make you understand it wasn't whether or not you could do it. It was about sharing those last few minutes of your day with you. You have a way of not letting people in." (Kindle Locations 2492-2495)

If I ever prayed, as a child, for everlasting union, these were its shoes: one dew-licked kicked-off slipper of a being now flying, one sunrise-milk-green boot of the dead, which I wore, as I dreamed.

As a child, he'd peered at the camera, as if trying to see into it, to its engineering

if I want to know a poem, Biblically, respiratorily, cardio- vascularly, I chart the rhythms of its lines—and I no longer fear that beat interests me so deeply because I was a child beaten to the 4/4 beat

If I had to see my face while I am writing this, I would not write it. When I was a child, I was encouraged to speak from behind a tree as if I were the tree, or speak as if up from out of the ground, or, as a white adult, to speak out from within a white adult—how easy that has made my life is almost invisible to me.

Snyder who had made Jane cry by hiding her favorite plastic horse and telling herthat it had died in the night. That was Snyder to a tee, senselessly mean in very little ways. I say it was a senseless meanness because being mean didn't make him any happier. If you're going to hide a plastic horse and tell its owner it's dead, you should at least get some pleasure from it. Otherwise what are you doing? That was my enduring question—what was he doing?

I had to meet my mother as a person, separate from my childhood experiences and judgements of her, and know her from an adult perspective.

My father used to call me back from playtime in our giant yard, take me aside, and, putting his hand on my shoulder, say, "You are letting those boys beat you so that they will like you. Now, go out there and win, and they will respect you.

I grew up loving Walter Payton. My dad used to always show us film of him.

My dad got me a huge board when I was little. He loves to surf. He suited me up and sent me out on this huge wave. I went under, and when I came out and the board hit me in the face. So I said, I never wanted to do this again. I stayed away until I was 13.

He grew up never letting his mother wash his hockey equipment, preferring instead to air it outdoors, because he loved the smell so much.

Look," I said to the girls, and they offered a polite coo of awe. I thought of the discrete memories of my childhood—vivid moments rising above the vagueness of long stretches of unremembered time—and I wondered if they would recall this day, and the five of us together.

Maybe I feel betrayed by the woman inside of me who can't bring herself to do this thing. Or maybe I feel betrayed by my mother, for not devoting herself to me and creating whatever loving memories must be created in a child to make her want to repeat the process again.