Quotes About Childhood

One story even mentioned rainbows. Who would write that? Why make a child terrified of rainbows?

The three friends had grown up together, listening to Cob's stories and ignoring his advice.

Quando crianças, raramente pensamos no futuro. Essa inocência nos deixa livres para nos divertirmos como poucos adultos conseguem. O dia que nos inquietamos com o futuro é aquele em que deixamos a infância para trás.

It was the same scolding any child receives. Stay out of the neighbor's garden. Don't tease the Bentons' sheep. Don't play tag among the thousand spinning knives of your people's sacred tree.

Sin embargo —cavilación enigmática—, si alguna vez he conocido a alguien que no tenía ni una sola sombra en su corazón, seguramente debía de ser un niño demasiado pequeño para hablar. —Se

Like a child playing find-and-catch, it was my sincere hope that if I closed my eyes and remained perfectly still, the pain wouldn't be able to find me.

day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.

El día que empezamos a preocuparnos por el futuro es el día que dejamos atrás nuestra infancia

This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.

He recognized me. Not as other people would, not as a budding hero out of stories. Tapis had no time for such things. He remembered me as the smudgy, starveling boy who fell down his stairs fever-sick and crying one winter night. You could say I loved him even more for that.

The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our chilhood behind.

el sótano; sí, estás en el sótano de la casa paterna, tú eres un niño, sólo has soñado que eras un adulto, un viejo y asqueroso vigilante en París, pero eres un niño y estás en el sótano de la casa paterna (...)

I had a lot of anger because I wasn't happy with the way I had been raised.

What enables a child not only to learn words, but to put them together in meaningful sentences? What pushes children to go on developing complex grammatical language even though their early simple communication is successful for most purposes? Does child language develop similarly around the world? How do bilingual children acquire more than one language?

The mind of a child is like a kiss on the forehead — open and disinterested

Even as a child, I knew what I didn't want. I didn't want to wear red lipstick.

It is said that children do not distinguish between living and inanimate objects; I believe they do. A child imparts a doll or tin soldier with magical life-breath. The artist animates his work as the child his toys.

Toys to deftly pluck up like animal crackers and deposit safely into a crate decorated with friezes of bright circus trains carrying aardvarks, dodos, swift dromedaries, baby elephants, and plastic dinosaurs. A box of mixed metaphors.

There are stacks of notebooks that speak of years of aborted efforts, deflated euphoria, a relentless pacing of the boards. We must write, engaging in a myriad of struggles, as if breaking in a willful foal. We must write, but not without consistent effort and a measure of sacrifice: to channel the future, to revisit childhood, and to rein in the follies and horrors of the imagination for a pulsating race of readers.

I stared up at the plaster ceiling as I had done as a child. It seemed to me that the vibrating patterns overhead were sliding into place. The mandala of my life.

I had a really happy childhood - my siblings were great, my mother was very fanciful, and I loved to read. But there was always financial strife.

She seemed perfect to you, and even during her first attack of vertigo, which you happened to witness when you were six (the two of you climbing up the inner staircase of the Statue of Liberty), you were not alarmed, because she was a good and conscientious mother, and she managed to hide her fear from you by turning the descent into a game: sitting on the stairs together and going down one step at a time, asses on the rungs, laughing all the way to the bottom.

Hepimiz hikayeler dinlemek isteriz, t?pk? çocukken oldu?u gibi dinleriz anlat?lanlar?. Gerçek hikayeyi sözcüklerin içinde hayal ederiz, bunu yapmak için de hikayedeki ki?inin yerine koyar?z kendimizi, kendimizi anlad???m?z için onu da anlarm?? gibi yapar?z. Bu bir kand?rmacad?r.

His mother's name was Rose, and when he was big enough to tie his shoes and stop wetting the bed, he was going to marry her.