Best 11290 quotes in «kids quotes» category

That’s all kids want to know—that you love them.

That's right - a kid's brain on tech looks like a brain on drugs.

That's when I remember if you have a choice, always ask friends to leave in a very nice voice.

The accusations make me want to be kid again. Why isn't my mommy calling them big fat liars?

The answer to the question ‘How many children do you have?’ and the one to the question ‘How many children are you raising?’ are not identical in all cases: some men are not taking care of their own children, some are knowingly or unknowingly raising other men’s children, and some do not even know that they each have a child, another child, or other children.

The average adult hates being treated like a child, unless it suits them.

The best gift you can give to your kids is a happy marriage.

The best antidote to worry is action. If there is an action that will lessen the likelihood of a dreaded outcome occurring, and if that action doesn't cost too much in terms of effort or freedom, then take it. The worry about whether we remembered to close the baby gate at the top of the stairs can be stopped in an instant by checking. Then it isn't a worry anymore; it's just a brief impulse. Almost all of the worry parents feel about keeping their children safe evolves from the conflict between intuition and inaction. Your choices when worrying are clear: take action, have faith, pray, seek comfort, or keep worrying.

The best thing you can do for your kids is to show them God working in you on a daily basis.

The big guys who ran things didn't want you thinking or feeling. It slowed down production. They wanted you scared and working so you wouldn't bump up against the truth--life could be fun. Yup, they wanted you scared. They wanted you grim. They wanted you madly cranking out Barbie dolls or Post Toasties or Xerox, or they wanted you overworked and underpaid at teaching so you could at least feel smart, and they wanted you to keep having kids so you'd have to keep working at whatever job you were stuck in and not have time to think or feel or, if you did, you certainly wouldn't have time to do anything about it, or even get close to the big fun, the fun that belonged only to them. And then they wanted your kids to hop on the same treadmill.

The children fear me. They know what I am. If you knew, you'd fear me too.

-The burden of existence is bestowed upon birth. -The gift of existence is bestowed upon birth. Choose wisely, your life (and potential others' life) depend on it.

The reason kids are happier than adults is that they can cry their heart out after getting hurt.

The Creator favors the man who loves over the man who hates. If you teach hatred to your children, one day your child will have that hatred reflected back onto them, or onto you.

[THE DAILY BREATH] The greatest mystery in this Universe: the relationship between us and God - is revealed on Earth in the simplest and most beautiful way: our relationship with our own children. Do you know that "Even before He made the world, God loved you?" You may say "That's nice" but not really grasp the deep meaning and full revelation of this truth. Think with me. I don't have kids, but when I think of having my own children in the future, right now, years before they are conceived and born, I love them with my life and heart. Before I prepare their bedroom and their toys, I love them. In the same way God loves you. Before He made the world and anything else for you, He loved you. Just as you love your children for life, God loves you for eternity. I love Him back.

The dog growled again, long and ferocious. The hair on my neck tingled. And just when I knew he would attack, a horrible scream split the air, and Darlene passed out and fell over on her side.

The food is ready,” Zil announced to loud cheers. “But we have something more important to do, first, before we can eat.” Groans. “We have to carry out some justice.” That earned a silent stare until Turk and Hank started raising their hands and yelling, showing the crowd how to act. “This mutant, this nonhuman scum here, this freak Hunter…” Zil pointed, arm stretched out, at his captive. “This chud deliberately murdered my best friend, Harry.” “Na troo,” Hunter said. His mouth still didn’t work right. Brain damage, Zil supposed, from the little knock on his head. Half of Hunter’s face drooped like it wasn’t quite attached right. It made it easier for the crowd of kids to sneer at him, and Hunter, yelling in his drooling retard voice, wasn’t helping his case. “He’s a killer!” Zil cried suddenly, smacking his fist into his palm. “A freak! A mutant!” he cried. “And we know what they’re like, right? They always have enough food. They run everything. They’re in charge and we’re all starving. Is that some kind of coincidence? No way.” “Na troo,” Hunter moaned again. “Take him!” Zil cried to Antoine and Hank. “Take him, the murdering mutant scum!” They seized Hunter by the arms. He could walk, but only by dragging one leg. They half carried, half marched him across the plaza. They dragged him up the church steps. “Now,” Zil said, “here is how we’re going to do this.” He waved his hand toward the rope that Lance was unspooling back through the plaza. An expectant pause. A dangerous, giddy feeling. The smell of the meat had them all crazy. Zil could feel it. “You all want some of this delicious venison?” They roared their assent. “Then you’ll all grab on to the rope.

The innocence of children is what makes them stand out as a shining example to the rest of Mankind.

The kid is scary.

The little kids by the water threw their hands in the air and squealed, chasing each other in circles. It was hard to believe that I’d ever been that small. That young. That happy and clueless. They had pain ahead. Heartbreak. Loss. They didn’t know and I didn’t want them to – but at the same time, I hated that I hadn’t known. I’d taken everything for granted – my mother, my friends in Alexandria, playing hockey. I dreamed about the future because that’s what people persuade you to do when you’re a kid, but that’s the biggest lie of all – that you can plan. Reality is, you have no fucking clue what’s coming and neither do they

There are no dots in Tee's Or cross in eye's There is no connect in child neglect

There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate’s loot on Treasure Island.” -Walt Disney

The emergence of Electromagnetic Hypersensitivity is where Autism was back in the 1970's and very few children had the condition. Electromagnetic Hypersensitivity must not be allowed to explode into the new epidemic that Autism has become.

...the heart of a child can take forty-nine blows before it’s damaged for ever and what’s done can never be undone.

The miracle of children is that we just don’t know how they will change or who they will become.

The more we want our children to be (1) lifelong learners, genuinely excited about words and numbers and ideas, (2) avoid sticking with what’s easy and safe, and (3) become sophisticated thinkers, the more we should do everything possible to help them forget about grades.

The most important key to bettering yourself - is just that "yourself" - (g swiss)

The next morning, I woke up to hear Becky moaning and rustling around in her bed covers. “I’m so itchy!” she cried. “So scratch!” I said, groggily, but suddenly, I felt itchy too. So, I started scratching my legs. They felt better until I stopped scratching. Then, it started to burn. I threw back the covers and saw that my legs were covered in red bumps. “My legs!” I yelled. Becky looked over at me. Then, she pulled back her covers. Her legs were even worse. She gasped. “Mom!” I cried. Mom came in. She was ready for work, wearing her dress shirt and gym shorts. She only had to dress up the top half of her body in case she had to use her webcam to talk to her boss. “What is it?” she asked. “Look!” I said, showing her our legs. “Oh no! That’s poison ivy!” she cried, “Where were you guys playing yesterday?” “The woods,” I said. “You must have been sitting in it,” she said. - The Castle Park Kids

The problem with a man is, he is no more a child.

The quickest way to change a child's behavior and attitude is to get him involved in fixing his mistake. The best way to inspire a child to do better in the future is to give him an opportunity to do better in the present. A punishment makes him feel bad about himself. Making amends helps him feel good about himself, and helps him to see himself as a person who can do good.

There are all sorts of families," Tom's grandmother had remarked, and over the following few weeks Tom became part of the Casson family, as Micheal and Sarah and Derek-from-the-camp had done before him. He immediately discovered that being a member of the family was very different from being a welcome friend. If you were a Casson family member, for example, and Eve drifted in from the shed asking, "Food? Any ideas? Or shall we not bother?" then you either joined in the search of the kitchen cupboards or counted the money in the housekeeping jam jar and calculated how many pizzas you could afford. Also, if you were a family member you took care of Rose, helped with homework (Saffron and Sarah were very strict about homework), unloaded the washing machine, learned to fold up Sarah's wheelchair, hunted for car keys, and kept up the hopeful theory that in the event of a crisis Bill Casson would disengage himself from his artistic life in London and rush home to help.

There's a saying, 'Death hath a thousand doors to let out life; I shall find one.' But the children. That's what I struggle with.' He shook his head. 'Why the children?

There would be fewer absent fathers, if straight men were turned on only by women with whom they would not mind having children.

There's an inexplicable joy that exists on a brown child's face and in the way they navigate their world long before they discover they're hated.

There's a story behind every Bookworm"!

There’s nothing wrong with you at all. Sometimes people say or do things that are mean because there's something the matter with them. With Lydia, it seems there’s always something wrong with her.

There’s something different about her. I realize it’s her breasts—they’re huge. I see that she’s stuffed her bikini top with wet balls of sand. “What is that?” I say. “Scottie. Your suit.” She shields her eyes with her hand and looks down at her chest. “Beach boobs,” she says. “Take that out of there,” I say. “Alex. Why’d you let her do that?” Alex is on her stomach, with the straps of her top untied. She lifts her head toward Scottie. “I didn’t know. Take them out, stupid.” Sid lifts his head. “Honestly,” he says, “big boobs look kind of fatty.” “As Bebe says, boobs suck,” Alex says, “and Sid’s full of shit. He loves big boobs.” “Who’s Bebe?” Scottie lets the sand fall out of her top. “Character from South Park,” Sid says. “And I love small boobs, too, Alex. I’m an equal-opportunity employer.

The room was full of magical objects, animals, photographs, paintings, strange looking plants and many flying books. I only found this room a few days ago and it seems that it keeps changing every time I come.

These young people are going to change the world.

The shadow self is what lies beneath the makeup. It’s those ugly parts that you haven’t accepted about yourself. You hide those parts in the shadows until you’re ready.” Her face remained a haunting calm. “When you realize the scars are who you are, that there was nothing wrong with you and that you were beautiful all along - that’s when you decide to take the makeup off.

The snow drifts into our zombie mouths crawling with grease and curses and tobacco flakes and cavities and boyfriend/girlfriend juice, the stain of lies. For one moment we are bot failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds. For one breath everything feels better.

Tony and Peg have two kids, Terry-Lynn and Harvey, both of whom are enrolled in so many extracurricular and afterschool clubs that they hardly ever see their parents. If Terry-Lynn is in Girl Guides, she doesn’t have to see Peg inviting the Purolator man in for “a cup of coffee”. If Harvey is in the anime drawing club, he doesn’t have to see Peg kissing Mr. Cooper from across the street, even if all the other neighbours secretly know what’s going on. Tony has no idea, all he knows is that Peg isn’t the same Peg he married back in 2003. All he knows is that she’s changed a great deal, and not for the better, like a beautiful butterfly regressing back into a devouring, ugly caterpillar in the span of only a couple of months.

The world talks to the mind. Parents speak more intimately; they talk to the heart.

They arrived home again to a most peculiar sight. The small garden at the front of the Banana House had been transformed. A tidal wave of cushions, beanbags, quilts, hearth rugs, and sleeping bags appeared to have swept up the lawn and broken at the wall. From Indigo's window a multicolored rope of knotted bedsheets came snaking out and ended among the cushions. As Micheal and Caddy watched, a mattress emerged and fell to the ground, followed by a rain of pillows. "Indigo!" shouted Caddy, jumping out of the car. Indigo's and Rose's heads appeared in the window above. "It's all right, Caddy!" Indigo called cheerfully. "We've been doing it all the time you've been gone." "We keep finding more stuff to land on!" added Rose. "Look!

They’d been shielded from every imaginable threat since birth, bound in car seats, topped with bicycle helmets, and slathered in 35 SPF sunscreen to protect their fair skin, and yet I knew, deep down, I was helpless to protect them from the unimaginable dangers, the ones where young women ended up as body dumps by the side of the road.

They look back and relixe that they learned much about Christian behavior an churchy experiences, but whatever they learned about Jesus didn't really change them. They never saw him so strikingly that he became their one, overriding hope and their greatest love. They were never convinced that Jesus is better - a zillion times better - than anything and everything else. Our goal must be for kids to catch this rock-their-world vision of Jesus.

Three hundred and thirty-two kids between the age of one month and fourteen years had been confined within the FAYZ. One hundred and ninety-six eventually emerged. One hundred and thirty-six lay dead. Dead and buried in the town plaza. Dead and floating in the lake or on its shores. Dead in the desert. In the fields. Dead of battles old and recent. Of starvation and accident, suicide and murder. It was a fatality rate of just over 40 percent.

This is Carlos's Three-Cheese Casserole." In between my appointment with Dr. D-P and my trip to the loft to supervise the installation of the range, I'd run home and gathered some ingredients from my father's pantry, intending to break in my new stove and play around with my kids' cooking assignment. I'd used tricolor bows, mixed with a combination of cottage cheese, Gruyère, the end of a piece of hard cheese I'd found in the back of the fridge, and a couple of eggs. I baked it all in a hot oven and served it topped with a fresh tomato basil sauce.

This is why we can't have nice things...

To build confident and kind kids, we must celebrate their uniqueness.