Quotes About Childhood

The student and the teacher had contrasting ideas about the sentence, which was: "There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in.

He'd complained to his doctor. "The beta-blockers are blocking my memories!" Juan Diego cried. "They are stealing my childhood—they are robbing my dreams!" To his doctor, all this hysteria meant was that Juan Diego missed the kick his adrenaline gave him. (Beta-blockers really do a number on your adrenaline.)

I was four, and I sincerely believe that this is my first memory of life itself – as opposed to what I was told happened, as opposed to the pictures other people have painted for me.

What we believe as children forms us; what haunts us in our childhood and adolescence can make us do wayward things

You can see why we children asked so many questions. It is a vague story, the kind parents prefer to tell.

You are never over your childhood, not until

His childhood, and the people he'd encountered there—the ones who'd changed his life, or who'd been witnesses to what had happened to him at that crucial time—were what Juan Diego had instead of religion.

In the company of grown women among whom Jack remembered being a little boy, he was again a child.

What wouldn't you believe when you were four, and your mom was the manager of your so-called memories?

Owen and I were eleven; we had no other way to articulate what we felt about what had happened to my mother. He gave me his baseball cards, but he really wanted them back, and I gave him my stuffed armadillo, which I certainly hoped he'd give back to me—all because it was impossible for us to say to each other how we really felt. How did it feel to hit a ball that hard—and then realize that the ball had killed your best friend's mother?

TAKE ALMOST ANYTHING FROM JUDE THE OBSCURE. HOW ABOUT THAT TERRIBLE LITTLE PRAYER THAT JUDE REMEMBERS FALLING ASLEEP TO, WHEN HE WAS A CHILD? "TEACH ME TO LIVE, THAT I MAY DREAD "THE GRAVE AS LITTLE AS MY BED. "TEACH ME TO DIE

THE summer my father bought the bear, none of us was born—we weren't even conceived: not Frank, the oldest; not Franny, the loudest; not me, the next; and not the youngest of us, Lilly and Egg. My father and mother were hometown kids who knew each other all their lives, but their "union," as Frank always called it, hadn't taken place when Father bought the bear.

Had she been guided by some unexpressed belief that Negroes were somehow unfit for a white woman to touch? She didn't know, but this moment in the gray morning jarred her to awareness. Rosalie felt no different from any other child hurting.

It was a reaction bred into her from childhood. That was an explanation, not an excuse. The reaction shamed her, and yet she seemed powerless to banish it or keep it from affecting her behavior.

I was in the Pre-School Play section, but we never played like the name said. We had to listen to stories some old woman read to us out of a grownup book that we didn't understand.

by means of certain small scars rising along its trunk, and by a limb extending over the river, and another thinner limb growing near it. This was the tree, and it seemed to me standing there to resemble those men, the giants of your childhood, whom you encounter years later and find that they are not merely smaller in relation to your growth, but that they are absolutely smaller, shrunken by age...the old giants have become piggies while you were looking the other way.

Probably, I could count on one hand the number of times something I've said has caused a person to turn pale. Most of those cases would hail from my childhood, when I told one or both of my folks a particularly worrisome piece of news: that I had stepped on a nail in the basement; that kind of thing. Well, add that Saturday morning in early June to the list. Howard's pale skin went paler, as if you'd poured a glass of milk over a bowl of oatmeal.

There may be areas in which our outer person thinks we have forgiven others—especially those most formative to us in childhood—but counsel and prayer reveal that such forgiveness is far from complete. It may be that coping mechanisms from childhood are still causing us to act and react in childish ways (see 1 Corinthians 13:11). Or bitter roots may have sprung back to life, causing us to defile others and reap harmful consequences that we cannot, without counsel, even explain.

Some psychologists have believed we are conditioned by what happened to us in childhood—in essence laying the blame on parents. But as Christians, we believe that we decide how we will react to what happens to us. We ourselves are responsible.

The childhood shows the man, As morning shows the day.

I really got the best of education , and arts and music and summer camp. I had it great.

The rattle is a toy suited to the infant mind, and education is a rattle or toy for children of larger growth.

I think we hear a lot of talk about college, and we don't hear about early education.

Every child has a right to go to high school and end up with a third grade education.