Quotes About Childhood

I was unhappy as a child for reasons that are no longer important.

Men are born for games. Nothing else. Every child knows that play is nobler than work. He

When you hear a sobbing child say it's not fair you are always hearing the truth.

I know certain days of your childhood. All but weeping with loneliness. Coming upon a certain book in the library and clutching it to you. Carrying it home. Some perfect place to read it. Under a tree perhaps. Beside a stream. Flawed youths of course. To prefer a world of paper. Rejects.

Gleda, bled i prljav. Ne ume ni da ?ita ni da piše, a u njemu ve? klija naklonost ka bezumnom nasilju. Sva se istorija vidi na tom licu: dete, otac ?ovekov

Look. (Grown-ups skip this paragraph.) I'm not about to tell you this book has a tragic ending, I already said in the very first line how it was my favorite in all the world. But there's a lot of bad stuff coming. William Goldman, The Princess Bride

If, like Riccio, you didn't have parents, it was easy to imagine how wonderful they might have been. But what if you had parents and they weren't wonderful at all?

What child unable to sleep on a warm summer night hasn't thought he saw Peter Pan's sailing ship in the sky? I will teach you to see that ship. Roberto Cotroneo, When a Child on a Summer Morning

with a leaf canopy spreading so wide that a whole troop of horsemen could shelter beneath it. The forests of the other world were so young, their trees still children. They had always made him feel old, so old that the years covered him like cobwebs. Here he was young again, just a child among the trees, not much older than the mushrooms growing among their roots, not much taller than the thistles and nettles.

As I never saw my father or my mother … my first fancies regarding what they were like, were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on my father's gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription "Also Georgiana Wife of the Above" I drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Faber sniffed the book. "Do you know that books smell like nutmeg or some spice from a foreign land? I loved to smell them when I was a boy." Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Children working in the carpet industry often suffer from many health problems. These include breathing difficulties from inhaling the carpet fibres, arthritis in their fingers from tying the tiny knots, and growth deformities from working hunched over their looms for so long every day.

Recall the pure joy of riding on a backyard swing: and easy cycle of motion, the momentum coming from the swing itself. Then swing carries us; we do not force it. We pump our legs to drive our arc higher, but gravity does most of the work. We are not so much swinging as being swung.

But really I wanted to burn these childhood artifacts, because the lines -meant for escape- served as a reminder instead. I wanted to burn my memories.

History is a ghost story. My own childhood has passed into history, and the ghosts I find there are the ghosts of Heroes and dragons and Berserks and witches, and it has become fashionable not to believe in these things anymore. But I believe, for I was there.

We spent the time running free and unsupervised all over the island, and going out in boats on our own. For this was the 1970s, when the notion of childcare was to open the front door and say: 'Bye kids, come back when your hungry. Don't fall off a cliff...' -From The Writer's Map chapter First Steps

We spent the time running free and unsupervised all over the island, and going out in boats on our own. For this was the 1970s, when the notion of childcare was to open the front door and say: 'Buy kids, come back when your hungry. Don't fall off a cliff...' -From The Writer's Map chapter First Steps

The family is a police state, the Visitor said, describing how minuscule stages lit up inside her, repeating key scenes from her life. Do people remember only what they can endure, or distort memories until they can endure them? After a long silence, A. said: Childhood is a city you never leave. In Berlin's past, we seek our own.

Well-- My mother paused, and her tone was reflective in that way that is inevitably sad, because the past is sad. What I remember, she said, is that you were always such a dear little girl.

Early on, I'd occasionally wept in private after seeing an abused child. But quickly my tears had come to seem not just unprofessional but self-indulgent.

Mama!' Rosie tugged on my shirt. 'This broccoli is tasty and wonderful'.

When Jeff Greene was in second grade, seven and a half years old, he got home from school one Tuesday afternoon in early March, and found a note from his mother, saying that she had gone away and would not be coming back.

Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

A new degree of anger came over him. What did it all matter? What did it matter if the mother talked Polish and cried in labour, if this child were stiff with resistance, and crying?Why take it to heart?Let the mother cry in labour, let the child cry in resistance, since they would do so. Why should he fight against it, why resist? Let it be, if it were so. Let them be as they were, if they insisted.