Childhood has no forebodings; but then, it is soothed by no
memories of outlived sorrow.

Childhood has no forebodings; but then, it is soothed by no
memories of outlived sorrow.

The essence of childhood, of course, is play, which my friends and I did endlessly on streets that we reluctantly read more

The essence of childhood, of course, is play, which my friends and I did endlessly on streets that we reluctantly shared with traffic.

I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection.

I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection.

Women know
The way to rear up children (to be just);
They know a simple, merry, tender read more

Women know
The way to rear up children (to be just);
They know a simple, merry, tender knack
Of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes,
And stringing pretty words that make no sense,
And kissing full sense into empty words;
Which things are corals to cut life upon,
Although such trifles.

We plan our lives according to a dream that came to us in our childhood, and we find that life read more

We plan our lives according to a dream that came to us in our childhood, and we find that life alters our plans. And yet, at the end, from a rare height, we also see that our dream was our fate. It's just that providence had other ideas as to how we would get there. Destiny plans a different route, or turns the dream around, as if it were a riddle, and fulfills the dream in ways we couldn't have expected.

The children in Holland take pleasure in making
What the children in England take pleasure in breaking.

The children in Holland take pleasure in making
What the children in England take pleasure in breaking.

Wynken, Blynken and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe--
Sailed on a river of read more

Wynken, Blynken and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe--
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.

In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and
great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and read more

In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and
great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be
comforted, because they are not.

A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish son is the
heaviness of his mother.

A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish son is the
heaviness of his mother.