Quotes About Childhood

He closed his eyes and tried to remember the taste of snow apples. When he was a child, there was a gnarled tree of them behind his father's blacksmith shop. His mother would always pick them but there were never enough for more than a single tart. Spicy and yet sweet, like McIntosh, but the flesh was so impossibly white, pristine, and the juice was so abundant, that it was like no other apple he had ever tasted.

If love was the result of having caught a glimpse of another's loneliness, then he had loved Mikal since they were both ten years old.

If love was the result of having caught a glimpse of another's loneliness, then he had loved Mikal since they were both ten years old.

A complying memory has obliterated many of them and edited my childhood down to a brief cinematic blur.

My first memory of school is of taking an apple to the teacher. This puzzles me. We had no apples on Isabella. It must have been an orange; yet my memory insists on the apple.

She stuffed Matt into a long-sleeved shirt and trousers and gave him a pair of rubber sandals to wear.

mostly naked, in a very different area than that whence they came. For this reason, few such children were allowed upon the street without the accompaniment of a guardian-servant. "For her clothing? The Duquessa is not a child!" To the contrary, I thought; she seemed quite childlike in many ways, but Sherlock laughed heartily. "Most far-fetched.

I know i'm making her sound like something out of a story. But it was the other way around. When my mother told me stories about the spinning princess or the brave goose-girl or the river-maiden, in my head I imagined them all a little like Kasia; that was how I thought of her. And I wasn't old enough to be wise, so I loved her more, not less, because I knew she would be taken from me soon.

If I could have remembered, at least some of the words would have been wrong: like hearing again a half-remembered favorite tale from childhood and finding it unsatisfying, or at least not as I'd remembered it.

But for my part, I did feel very much like i'd just been put against the wall by the most dragonish dinner lady at primary school.

One day when I was ten one of our neighbors came to the house and said that the tsar was dead and when I asked what ir meant they said that there would be a new tsar. So I did not really see why a tsar mattered.

When my father was growing up inside the Old City of Jerusalem, he and his friends liked to trade desserts after diner.

mother seemed happy because the school yard where Rafik would spend his recesses was surrounded by a high stone wall. She'd recently started talking about 'safety' in a way that made Liyana jumpy. Liyana never thought about safety unless someone else brought it up. She didn't WANT to think about it either. SHE WANTED TO LIVE IN AN UNLOCKED WORLD

Please describe how you became a writer. Possibly I began writing as a refuge from our insulting first grade textbook. Come, Jane, come. Look, Dick, look. Were there ever duller people in the world? You had to tell them to look at things? Whey weren't they looking to begin with?

As a child, you sat in a circle around your teacher and looked at her face as she read a story, and you felt the magic of human narrative in a collective context.

To reach that conclusion, testing advocates had to ignore all sorts of experiences that could influence the scores—especially those in early childhood, when the brain is still developing.

One of the pitfalls of childhood is that one doesn't have to understand something to feel it. By the time the mind is able to comprehend what has happened, the wounds of the heart are already too deep.

Una de las trampas de la infancia es que no hace falta comprender algo para sentirlo. Para cuando la razón es capaz de entender lo sucedido, las heridas en el corazón ya son demasiado profundas.

Whoever said that childhood is the happiest time of your life is a liar, or a fool.

Max had once read in one of his father's books that some childhood images become engraved in the mind like photographs, like scenes you can return to again and again and will always remember, no matter how much time goes by.

The words with which a child's heart is poisoned, through malice or through ignorance, remain branded in his memory, and sooner or later they burn his soul.

Time is a great healer. I never felt that Julian hated him. Perhaps that would have been better. I got the impression that he lost all respect for the hatter as a result of all those scenes. Julian spoke about it as if it didn't matter to him, as if it were part of a past he had left behind, but these things are never forgotten. The words with which a child's heart is poisoned, whether through malice or through ignorance, remain branded in his memory, and sooner or later they burn his soul.

I stopped asking my father to take me to see Victor Hugo's pen, and he didn't mention it again. That world seemed to have vanished, but for a long time the image I had of my father, which I still preserve today, was that of a thin man wearing an old suit that was too large for him and a secondhand hat he had bought on Calle Condal for seven pesetas, a man who could not afford to buy his son a wretched pen that was useless but seemed to mean everything to him.

I was raised among books, making invisible friends in pages that seemed cast from dust and whose smell I carry on my hands to this day. As