Quotes About Child

Is constructive criticism really constructive? Not really. You can't make a child better by pointing out what you think is wrong with him or her. Criticism either crushes spirit or elicits defensiveness. Constructive criticism is an interesting combination of words. "Construct" means "to build." "Criticism" means "to tear down" It creates defiance and anger as well.

Every time a child is harmed, HUMANITY takes a backward step

When a child hits a child, we call it aggression. When a child hits an adult, we call it hostility. When an adult hits an adult, we call it assault. When an adult hits a child, we call it discipline.

What is the goal of parenting? It's to help a child grow up to be a decent human being, a mensch, a person with compassion, commitment, and caring.

When we genuinely acknowledge a child's plight and voice her disappointment, she often gathers the strength to face reality. Seven-year-old

A limit should be so stated that it tells the child clearly (a) what constitutes unacceptable conduct; (b) what substitute will be accepted.

A warning serves as a challenge to the child's autonomy.

Words of praise should mirror for the child a realistic picture of her accomplishments, not a distorted image of her personality.

His "psychological car" was driven at various times by his inner pusher, his pleaser, his frightened child, and his inner critic, who was always willing to let him know how inadequate he really was.

If he did not stop smiling, people would think he was drunk or had lost his wits, he mused, but he could not seem to stop. Just the thought of Bridget carrying his child had him grinning like an idiot.

Every time a good child dies, an angel of God comes down to earth. He takes the child in his arms, spreads out his great white wings, and flies with it all over the places the child loved on earth. The angel plucks a large handful of flowers, and they carry it with them up to God, where the flowers bloom more brightly than they ever did on earth.

"But the emperor has nothing at all on!" a little child declared.

Her (Mary's) Son first had to be the Child of the Father in order then to become man and be capable of taking up on his shoulders the burden of a guilty world.

was able to see God not as the source of our anguish but as the source of our ability to cope with it, to love and to comfort and to enjoy and ultimately to grieve for a very special child.

In our own time, when child abduction has become epidemic and even our milk cartons are imprinted with the faces of the missing, that truth has been confirmed with dismaying regularity.

In that book which she and her simple old friend had read so much together, she had seen and taken to her young heart the image of one who loved the little child; and, as she gazed and mused, He had ceased to be an image and a picture of the distant past, and come to be a living, all-surrounding reality. His love enfolded her childish heart with more than mortal tenderness; and it was to Him, she said, she was going, and to his home. But

But I believe that all the trying in the world to benefit a child, and all the substantial favors you can do them, will never excite one emotion of gratitude, while that feeling of repugnance remains in the heart;—it's a queer kind of a fact,—but so it is.

He had never thought that a fugitive might be a hapless mother, a defenceless child,—like

Forgetfulness is like a song That, freed from beat and measure, wanders. Forgetfulness is like a bird whose wings are reconciled, Outspread and motionless, -- A bird that coasts the wind unwearyingly. Forgetfulness is rain at night, Or an old house in a forest, -- or a child. Forgetfulness is white, -- white as a blasted tree, And it may stun the sybil into prophecy, Or bury the Gods. I can remember much forgetfulness.

The real first kiss is the one that tells you what it feels like to be an adult and doesn't let you be a child anymore. The first kiss is the one that you suffer the consequences of. It was as if I had been playing Russian roulette and finally got the cylinder with the bullet in it.

I will state in a few lines that Maldoror was good during his first year, when he lived happily; that is a fact. Then he realised he was born malicious: an extraordinary fate! ... Who would have thought: every time he embraced a little rosy-cheeked child he longed to remove its cheeks with a razor.

I want to make my music and be a happy woman, a good wife, a good mom and one day hopefully have a child of my own.

Every child lives up to the expectation you have for him.