Best 24578 quotes in «children quotes» category

Ignorance is a crime against ones self

Ignoring a baby’s cries without addressing their needs can permanently harm them. All of these failures may lead a child to have post-traumatic stress disorder or any of the forms of panic disorder in their adulthood.

I grew up in an environment where the onus of raising a child was not on the parents alone but of the entire community. The logic is in that a child who becomes a burden or an armed robber becomes a threat not only to the parents but to a whole society!

I guess to their wide, innocent eyes it all seemed like normal family life because they had never known any different. In fact, I was the only one who had lived with anyone else, the only one that realized that life didn't have to be this terrifying and this painful all the time

I guess you just have to trust your kids, trust that their innate interest in life will win out in the end, don’t you think?

I guess when you'd lived as long, and pondered as much, as Old Tom had...a game of hopscotch could be more profound than village politics or gossip.

I guess I don't believe you can have it all. I don't believe any of us can. In fact, I believe the very expression having it all is not only a myth but also a symptom of how sick we are in our contemporary culture. Nobody gets to have it all...You will have one thing or another depending on what choice you make. Or you will have both things in limited amounts, and that might turn out to be perfect, just exactly the life you want'" (175).

I had a cat I could not see, Because it stayed in back of me. It was a very loyal pet- It's sad we never really met. I had a nice pet Who I never met, Remember it always stayed behind me. And I'm sure it was a cat, too.

I had so much respect for the fact that Father Andrew saw his own sins in my actions. I wished all adults were like Father Andrew.

I had uncovered a widely held but overlooked attachment: our attachment to the view that every problem must have a solution. We delude ourselves that we can think our way out of a problem or we see it as a matter of finding the right person to advise us. We become beggars for our problems, asking numerous people for an opinion. So often, we refuse to relax until a problem is fixed, only to discover our inability to relax was most of the problem.

I have a theory about how she might have managed to pull off such a feat. It comes in the form of an equation: Love + Fear = Herculean Strength. It’s how mothers come to fling runaway motorcars from their children.

I have died every day in my mind with disgust for not being able to protect my own children.

I have caressed a small child’s hair, and in doing so, know there is a God.

I have heard that, with some persons, temperance – that is, moderation – is almost impossible; and if abstinence be an evil (which some have doubted), no one will deny that excess is a greater. Some parents have entirely prohibited their children from tasting intoxicating liquors; but a parent’s authority cannot last for ever; children are naturally prone to hanker after forbidden things; and a child, in such a case, would be likely to have a strong curiosity to taste, and try the effect of what has been so lauded and enjoyed by others, so strictly forbidden to himself – which curiosity would generally be gratified on the first convenient opportunity; and the restraint once broken, serious consequences might ensue.

I have hope in children. In children and warriors. In children who fuck like children and warriors who fight like brave men.

I have hunger.

I have never even idly thought for a single passing second that it might make my life nicer to have a small rude incontinent person follow me around screaming and making me buy them stuff for the rest of my life.

I have long held that there are two fundamental views of children: That they are pets who can talk, or that they are small people who do not yet know very much. The wrong one is winning.

I have no heroes except flowers and children.

I have nothing against kids—as long as they go home with their parents at the end of the day.

I have no greater joy than to know that my children walk in truth.

I have outlived a few of the kids that I grew up with in Knowsley Village, Liverpool, UK. Two dropped dead at eighteen years of age from heart attacks! They lived across the road from each other and played together. I wonder if it was some exposure that was common to them? Curiously, an entire family of three ladies all got breast cancer just round the corner from them, it killed my friend! A little further up the road another friend dropped dead of brain cancer in her thirties. Always seemed like far too much premature death in such a small area.

I hope our daughters are born with so much fire in their souls, they could put volcanoes and stars to shame.

I hope that you mothers will realize that when all is said and done, you have no more compelling responsibility, nor any laden with greater rewards, than the nurture you give your children in an environment of security, peace, companionship, love, and motivation to grow and do well.

I sell my children, and though they feed me, they don't love me as hers do.

I is a dreamblowing giant,” the BFG said. “(...) I is scuddling away to other places to blow dreams into the bedrooms of sleeping children. Nice dreams. Lovely golden dreams. Dreams that is giving the dreamers a happy time.

I just want my kids to love who they are, have happy lives and find something they want to do and make peace with that. Your job as a parent is to give your kids not only the instincts and talents to survive, but help them enjoy their lives." (The Power of One: Belief.net Interview; July 2005)

Ikiwa huna pesa na una mke na watoto kwa mfano, mke wako (wanawake walio wengi) hatakuona wa maana kwa sababu ya ustawi wa maisha ya familia yake. Ikiwa una mwanamke asiyekuwa na busara au hekima ya kutosha, au mwanamke ambaye akili zake zimefyatuka kidogo, atakusaliti kutafuta bwana au mtu mwenye maana. Kama huna pesa huna maana kwa mwanamke.

I know absolutely nothing, Mom. I've been wrong so often. I know nothing of what it takes to raise children and keep them from dying.

İki tip çocuk vardı: Biri sonuna kadar gözyaşlarına boğulmayı tercih eder, ama tabağındaki pırasayı yemeye mahkum olur. Diğeri ise ne yapacağını biliyordur. Küçük, anlaşılmayacak bir samimiyete indirgenmiş ani bir kusma refleksi ve patates kızartması beş dakika içinde hazır olur. Elveda pırasa.

I knew then that I must survive for something more than survival's sake. I must survive for you.

I left a note for my mother. I always leave a note for my mother when I am on a case.

I know I'll never marry, never risk bringing a child into the world. Because if there's one thing being a victor doesn't guarantee, it's our children's safety. My kids' names would go right into the reaping balls with everyone else's. And I swear I'll never let that happen.

I know now it is children who accept life; grown people cover it up and pretend it is different with drinks.

I like Mr. Dickens’ books much better than yours, Papa. Said one of Thackeray’s daughters.

I know it’s hard when other children are called home but we can find purpose and good in all things when we can see things from the Lord’s perspective. There is goodness to be found and lives are still touched and changed for the good when little ones go home to Heavenly Father. My sister was 7 when she returned to him. Her passing gave me the strength to be who I am today. Every experience we have had in our lives has made us the strong women we are today. The Lord is strengthening those families as they pass through these trials just as He does us.

I let myself exist mainly through my children... [but] I could not even guess at the lives my children led.

I like my misfortunes to be taken seriously.

I look at my parents the way mothers look at their toddlers. I take every chance to witness them undisturbed. To study every detail as if sitting for an important exam. I take note of their hands, the curves of their ears, the way they envelop a room and greet others. The way their souls shine through when they speak of something they love, like a candid photograph unveiling beauty and truth. Even though I am present in the same space as them, I am distanced because of the intensity of my love. Every heartbeat reminds me of the ephemeral nature of our bodies and the blessedness of these moments until my father looks up from his book and catches me smiling. And like a child he is bewildered for a moment and smiles back.

I love Alice more than life itself, but I can't keep her hidden forever.

I love children. Eating them, that is.

I love ben

I loved it in the unconditional way that children love their first home.

I love fairies so much. I would so love to touch one, whispered Julia in excitement. “U can touch me.But please don't touch my wings,they are very fragile,”replied 1 fairy.“I’m Farina,the fairy queen.

I love to help children's souls shine.

I love to teach children science.

I made him walk on a lead and he jumped for joy, the way creatures do, and children do and adults don't do, and spend their lives wondering where the leap went.

I love you. I love you both so much." "To the moon and back?" Alice asked. "Oh my God," Georgie said, "so much farther.

I'm afraid,' wrote someone on a school report, 'that Claudia's intelligence may well prove a stumbling-block unless she learns how to control her enthusiasms and channel her talents.' Of course, intelligence is always a disadvantage. Parental hearts should sink at the first signs of it.

imagine your heart is just a ball you learned to dribble up and down the length of your driveway back home. slow down control it. plant your feet in the soft blue of your mat and release it is hard but slowly you are unlearning the shallow pant of your childhood. extend your body—do not reach for someone but something fixed and fleshless and certain— fold flatten then lift your head like a cobra sure of the sun waiting and ready to caress the chill from its scales. inhale—try not to remember how desperate you’ve been for touch—yes ignore it—that hitch of your heart you got from mornings you woke to find momma hysterical or gone. try to give up the certainty she’d never return recall only the return and not its coldness. imagine her arms wide to receive you imagine you are not a thing that needs escaping. it is hard and though at times you are sure you will always be the abandoned girl trying to abandon herself push up arch deep into your back exhale and remember— when it is too late to pray the end of the flood we pray instead to survive it.