Best 1078 quotes in «birth quotes» category

5 mins after your birth, they decide your name, nationality, religion & sect & you spend rest of your life defending something you didn't choose.

A bed is a place where so much of life is played out - births and deaths and passions and dreaming - all the most fundamental moments of our fragile human existence.

A certain bygone philosophy-which certainly must have quite forgotten all about the real child-used to speak of the child's nature as a tabula rasa, or 'blank page,' upon which experience and training might write what they pleased. As a matter of fact, the child's nature at birth, like that of a calf or a chick, is pretty well scribbled over by the experience of its ancestors. It is far from being blank, for as soon as the little organism comes into the world, it begins to do certain things and do them with much zeal and determination, as every one knows who knows real children.

Accomplish one small thing a day. Maybe it’s cleaning that counter, maybe it’s writing one thank-you note. Don’t make the task too difficult. For the rest, you’re healing a uterus; adding millions of cells to your baby’s brain (though it might sometimes feel as if they are being siphoned off from your own); developing his liver, heart, and lungs; boosting his immune system; and maintaining the integrity of his intestines … you’re a busy lady! All while sprawled comfortably on the couch. Multi-tasking raised to an art form!

A child is a gift from God.

A child of God, special possession.

A child is reliving millions of years of Evolution from a single cell to a XXI Century Human. This is the most amazing miracle I've ever encountered, and I am truly grateful to the Nature for letting me perform it - for letting me create a new life called Emily.

A child's name is his portal to the world.

A day of birth is a joyful day.

A farewell to my shadow is not my death; it’s my rebirth in darkness.

A gardin is where you can find a whole spectrum of life, birth and death

A goddess of dawn scooted under a zing of barbed wire to witness your birth.

A great snow is the calm death of struggle and the transformative birth of life.

Isaac Newton was born at Woolsthorpe, near Grantham, in Lincolnshire, 1642: a weakly and diminutive infant, of whom it is related that, at his birth, he might have found room in a quart mug. He died on March the 20th, 1727, after more than eighty-four years of more than average bodily health and vigour; it is a proper pendant to the story of the quart mug to state that he never lost more than one of his second teeth.

A leader isn't born after 9 months' conception. When talents are discovered, skills are mastered & values are developed, a leader is born.

All artists give birth. It's alchemy and it's really an amazing process.

A life as long as the Minotaur's - that half-man half-bull, and fully scapegoat - a life that long doubles back on itself from time to time. Caves in. The minuscule tectonics of being alive, among the wholly human, always unsettling. The world shifts continuously beneath his feet. The Minotaur came from misspent want, from the planked birth canal, came from blood-drenched stone walls, from yellow thread. Belayed by desire, the beast pulled himself along. Pulled himself through centuries, through zeitgeists and kitchens, through paradigms and junkyards. Pulls still. Home.

All men are born firstly with the instinct to protect themselves. But few grow to really love themselves, and even fewer learn to love their neighbor as themselves.

All things have their birth in Love by adaptation.

All men are born great but die on the way. But a virtuous never dies but once.

And I would give my self to this light just to have my brother and mother by each other’s side. I would swim back to the ocean and birth a creature of acceptance; I would if it let me. I would give it all away.

― all you have to do is kill every citizen at birth and then, by God, you're left with the perfect ―

Among industrialized countries, the U.S. ranks 29th in infant survival.

Almost asphyxiated, I kneeled in the broken grave, retching and coughing and choking for air: all the horrors of birth.

And so, perhaps, I must once again accept what I used to suspect about my birth: that I had been here many times before and would come again regardless of how unhappily, unwillingly, and to exactly this same place.

And then he draws the lamb in one smooth strong stroke, and slaps and rakes its wet mosslike fur to make it breathe, feels the power of its fast heartbeat in the chicken-bone cage of its ribs, still wet in his hands from the grease of birth, all these things of life, from jissom to mucus slavered between thighs to the wet sack of birth and glistening oiled newborn thing—all of these things of life awatered.

And what agony, thought Krug the thinker, to love so madly a little creature, formed in some mysterious fashion (even more mysterious to us than it had been to the very first thinkers in their pale olive gloves) by the fusion of two mysteries, or rather two sets of a trillion of mysteries each; formed by a fusion which is, at the same time, a matter of choice and a matter of chance and a matter of pure enchantment; thus formed and then permitted to accumulate trillions of its own mysteries; the whole suffused with consciousness, which is the only real thing in the world and the greatest mystery of all.

A new collection of matter and information to present to the universe and to which it in turn will be presented; different, arguably equal parts of that great ever-repetitive, ever-changing jurisdiction of being.

Anything which is just born, which has just come into existence, has no past behind it. Birth, in other words, is the condition of having no past. And likewise, anything which now dies, which has just ceased to be, has no future left in front of it. Death is the condition of having no future. But we have already seen that this present moment has both no past and no future simultaneously. That is, birth and death are one in this present moment. This moment is just now being born—you can never find a past to this present moment, you can never find something before it. Yet also, this moment is just now dying — you can never find a future to this moment, never find something after it. This present, then, is a coincidence of opposites, a unity of birth and death, being and non-being, living and dying. As Ippen put it, "Every moment is the last moment and every moment is a rebirth.

Animals give birth to children, so that alone is not an argument strong enough to make a human a man. Otherwise goats, dogs and pigs could beat us to the game, because they could do in one go what will take man years to accomplish. A woman can only give birth to a number of kids at a time, in a year, while some animals could give birth to as many as tens of breeds in a year.

A question that always makes me hazy is it me or are the others crazy' Albert Einstein

A pregnant pause with enough gestation can give birth to a well formed idea.

Are you sure you weren't adopted?" "Mom would like to think so, but it was a natural birth, so her memory's real clear.

As soon as we are born, we are old enough to die.

As I have pointed out before, characters are not born like people, of woman; they are born of a situation, a sentence, a metaphor containing in a nutshell a basic human possibility that the author thinks no one else has discovered or said something essential about.

As I was wheeled into the operating room I pleaded with God for one more day, one more week, one more month with her.

A soul of heart never knew any words to describe the wonder of the human race!

As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men, For they are women's children, and we mother them again. Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes; Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses!

At birth and at dawn for each and every day it triumphs over the eclipse. It is the very first thing that you see. Its power is blinding at first, anon it opens our eyes to the allure of the world. Each moment it breathes life into us, warms our souls and colors our skin. At gloaming it seems to wane, while it privily awaits a time to give birth to a new circle of life.

A team goes through stages of birth, childhood, puberty, adolescence, maturity, and aging in its development.

Attempts to locate oneself within history are as natural, and as absurd, as attempts to locate oneself within astronomy. On the day that I was born, 13 April 1949, nineteen senior Nazi officials were convicted at Nuremberg, including Hitler's former envoy to the Vatican, Baron Ernst von Weizsacker, who was found guilty of planning aggression against Czechoslovakia and committing atrocities against the Jewish people. On the same day, the State of Israel celebrated its first Passover seder and the United Nations, still meeting in those days at Flushing Meadow in Queens, voted to consider the Jewish state's application for membership. In Damascus, eleven newspapers were closed by the regime of General Hosni Zayim. In America, the National Committee on Alcoholism announced an upcoming 'A-Day' under the non-uplifting slogan: 'You can drink—help the alcoholic who can't.' ('Can't'?) The International Court of Justice at The Hague ruled in favor of Britain in the Corfu Channel dispute with Albania. At the UN, Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko denounced the newly formed NATO alliance as a tool for aggression against the USSR. The rising Chinese Communists, under a man then known to Western readership as Mao Tze-Tung, announced a limited willingness to bargain with the still-existing Chinese government in a city then known to the outside world as 'Peiping.' All this was unknown to me as I nuzzled my mother's breast for the first time, and would certainly have happened in just the same way if I had not been born at all, or even conceived. One of the newspaper astrologists for that day addressed those whose birthday it was: There are powerful rays from the planet Mars, the war god, in your horoscope for your coming year, and this always means a chance to battle if you want to take it up. Try to avoid such disturbances where women relatives or friends are concerned, because the outlook for victory upon your part in such circumstances is rather dark. If you must fight, pick a man! Sage counsel no doubt, which I wish I had imbibed with that same maternal lactation, but impartially offered also to the many people born on that day who were also destined to die on it.

At the moment of giving birth to a child, is the mother separate from the child? You should study not only that you become a mother when your child is born, but also that you become a child.

At the wondrous moment you were born, as you took your first breath, a great celebration was held in the heavens and twelve magnificent gifts were granted to you.

A woman brings so much more to the world than birth, for she can birth discovery, intelligence, invention, art, just as well as any man.

Before you were born, And were still too tiny for The human eye to see, You won the race for life From among 250 million competitors. And yet, How fast you have forgotten Your strength, When your very existence Is proof of your greatness. You were born a winner, A warrior, One who defied the odds By surviving the most gruesome Battle of them all. And now that you are a giant, Why do you even doubt victory Against smaller numbers, And wider margins? The only walls that exist, Are those you have placed in your mind. And whatever obstacles you conceive, Exist only because you have forgotten What you have already Achieved.

Because they died, we know we still live. Because a star explodes and a thousand worlds like ours die, we know this world is. That is the smile: that what might not be, is.

Before your mother's conception of you, God knew you; before His ‪consecration of you, He had up set your assignments right! You are not an accident!‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Being biologically successful is more than producing the next generation, it is also providing a safe environment that promotes their good health.

Being a critical thinker starts with resisting the urge to be a pleaser.

Giving Birth by Marcus Amaker do you remember when the earth was just a baby, settling in its skin, safe in the arms of mother nature with fire breathing from within. you were not shackled by time and life roamed around your heart with the weight of dinosaurs, leaving footprints in your lungs. and the first time you saw the sun you could barely breathe because the possibility of endless light planted a seed so you admire the strength of trees, who naturally grew into unwavering beauty, staring down the mouth of time. do you remember being 11 years old when your mother told you “birth is more painful than dying” and you burst with dreams without even trying, seeking light in your heart, where shadows now rest comfortably next to fear. but you come out of the woods clear, with nature’s breath under your tongue, and a weightless bliss, no longer scared of death.