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Childhood: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
Cheerful at morn he wakes from short repose, Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes.— GOLDSMITH — The Traveller. L. 1853.
It is good To lengthen to the last a sunny mood.— LOWELL — Legend of Brittany. Pt. 1. St. 35.
A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.— Shakespeare — A Winter's Tale. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 134.
Had she been light, like you, Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, She might ha' been a grandam ere she died; And so may you; for a light heart lives long.— Shakespeare — Love's Labour's Lost. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 15.
He makes a July's day short as December, And with his varying childness cures in me Thoughts that would thick my blood.— Shakespeare — A Winter's Tale. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 169.
Look cheerfully upon me. Here, love; thou seest how diligent I am.— Shakespeare — Taming of the Shrew. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 38.
My lovely living Boy, My hope, my hap, my Love, my life, my joy.— DU BARTAS — Divine Weekes and Workes. Second Week, Fourth Day. Bk. II.
'Tis not a life, 'Tis but a piece of childhood thrown away.— BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER — Philaster. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 15.
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears.— E. B. BROWNING — The Cry of the
Children. 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.— E. B. BROWNING — Aurora Leigh. Bk. I. L. 48.
Your father used to come home to my mother, and why may not I be a chippe of the same block out of which you two were cutte? BULLEN'S Old Plays. II. 60. Dick of Devonshire. Diogenes struck the father when the son swore.— BURTON — Anatomy of Melancholy. Pt. III. Sect. II. Memb. 6.
Subsect. 5. [Witches] steal young children out of their cradles, ministerio dæmonum, and put deformed in their rooms, which we call changelings. C.— BURTON — Anatomy of Melancholy. Pt. I. Sect. II. Memb. 1.
Subsect. 3. A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing, And mischief-making monkey from his birth.— BYRON — Don Juan. Canto I. St. 25.
Besides, they always smell of bread and butter.— BYRON — Beppo. St. 39.
Better to be driven out from among men than to be disliked of children.— R. H. DANA — The Idle Man. Domestic
Life. They are idols of hearts and of households; They are angels of God in disguise; His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses, His glory still gleams in their eyes; Those truants from home and from Heaven They have made me more manly and mild; And I know now how Jesus could liken The kingdom of God to a child.— CHAS. M. DICKINSON — The Children.
When the lessons and tasks are all ended, And the school for the day is dismissed, The little ones gather around me, To bid me good-night and be kissed; Oh, the little white arms that encircle My neck in their tender embrace Oh, the smiles that are halos of heaven, Shedding sunshine of love on my face.— CHAS. M. DICKINSON — The Children.
Childhood has no forebodings; but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow.— GEORGE ELIOT — The Mill on the Floss. Bk. I. Ch. IX.
Teach your child to hold his tongue, He'll learn fast enough to speak.— BENJ. FRANKLIN — Poor Richard
Maxims, 1734.
Alike all ages, dames of ancient days Have led their children thro' the mirthful maze; And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore, Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore.— GOLDSMITH — The Traveller. L. 251.
By sports like these are all their cares beguil'd, The sports of children satisfy the child.— GOLDSMITH — The Traveller. L. 153.
Alas! regardless of their doom, The little victims play; No sense have they of ills to come, Nor care beyond to-day.— GRAY — On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. St. 6.
But still when the mists of doubt prevail, And we lie becalmed by the shores of age, We hear from the misty troubled shore The voice of the children gone before. Drawing the soul to its anchorage.— BRET HARTE — A Greyport Legend. St. 6.
You hear that boy laughing? You think he's all fun; But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done. The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all!— O. W. HOLMES — The Boys. St. 9.
Few sons attain the praise Of their great sires and most their sires' disgrace.— HOMER — Odyssey. Bk. II. L. 315.
Pope's trans. Another tumble! that's his precious nose! g.. HOOD-Parental Ode to My Son. Oh, when I was a tiny boy My days and nights were full of joy. My mates were blithe and kind! No wonder that I sometimes sigh And dash the tear drop from my eye To cast a look behind!— HOOD — A Retrospective Review.
Children, ay, forsooth, They bring their own love with them when they come, But if they come not there is peace and rest; The pretty lambs! and yet she cries for more: Why, the world's full of them, and so is heaven- They are not rare. S.— JEAN INGELOW — Supper at the Mill,
Oh, would I were a boy again, When life seemed formed of sunny years, And all the heart then knew of pain Was wept away in transient tears!— MARK LEMON — Oh, Would I Were a
Boy Again. Ah! what would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before.— LONGFELLOW — Children. St. 4.
Perhaps there lives some dreamy boy, untaught In schools, some graduate of the field or street, Who shall become a master of the art, An admiral sailing the high seas of thought Fearless and first, and steering with his fleet For lands not yet laid down in any chart. C. LONGFELLOWw-Possibilities. Who wer as lyke as one pease is to another.— JOHN LYLY — Euphues. P. 215.
Who can foretell for what high cause This darling of the gods was born?— ANDREW MARVELL — Picture of T. C.
in a Prospect of Flowers. Ay, these young things lie safe in our hearts just so long As their wings are in growing; and when these are strong They break it, and farewell! the bird flies! OWEN MEREDITH (Lord Lytton)- Lucile. Canto VI. Pt. II. St. 29. As children gath'ring pebbles on the shore.— MILTON — Paradise Regained. Bk. IV. L. 330.
The childhood shows the man, As morning shows the day.— MILTON — Paradise Regained. Bk. IV. L. 220.
Ah! there are no longer any children!— MOLIERE — Le Malade Imaginaire. Act II. Sc. 11.
And when with envy Time transported Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boys.— THOMAS PERCY — Winifreda. 1720.
Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law, Pleas'd with a rattle, tickled with a straw.— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. II. L. 275.
Pointing to such, well might Cornelia say, When the rich casket shone in bright array, "These are my Jewels!" Well of such as he, When Jesus spake, well might the language be, "Suffer these little ones to come to me!"— SAM'L ROGERS — Human Life. L. 202.
And children know, Instinctive taught, the friend and foe.— SCOTT — Lady of the Lake. Canto II. St. 14.
Behold, my lords, Although the print be little, the whole matter And copy of the father, eye, nose, lip, The trick of 's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley, The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek; his smiles; The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger.— Shakespeare — Winter's Tale. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 98.
O lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure!— Shakespeare — King John. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 103.
Oh, 'tis a parlous boy; Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable; He's all the mother's from the top to toe.— Shakespeare — Richard III. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 154.
We have no such daughter, nor shall ever see That face of hers again. Therefore begone Without our grace, our love, our benizon.— Shakespeare — King Lear. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 266.
Your children were vexation to your youth, But mine shall be a comfort to your age.— Shakespeare — Richard III. Act IV. Sc. 4. L. 305.
A truthful page is childhood's lovely face, Whereon sweet Innocence has record made,- An outward semblance of the young heart's grace, Where truth, and love, and trust are all portrayed. S.— SHILLABER — On a Picture of Lillie.
In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer, quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.— ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON — A Child's
Garden of Verses. Bed in Summer. While here at home, in shining day, We round the sunny garden play, Each little Indian sleepy-head Is being kissed and put to bed.— ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON — A Child's
Garden of Verses. The Sun's Travels. Children are the keys of Paradise; They alone are good and wise, Because their thoughts, their very lives, are prayer.— R. H. STODDARD — The Children's Prayer. L. 43.
If there is anything that will endure The eye of God, because it still is pure, It is the spirit of a little child, Fresh from his hand, and therefore undefiled.— R. H. STODDARD — The Children's
Prayer. "Not a child: I call myself a boy," Says my king, with accent stern yet mild; Now nine years have brought him change of joy- "Not a child."— SWINBURNE — Not a Child. St. 1.
But still I dream that somewhere there must be The spirit of a child that waits for me. C.— BAYARD TAYLOR — The Poet's Journal.
Third Evening. Oh, for boyhood's time of June, Crowding years in one brief moon, When all things I heard or saw, Me, their master, waited for.— WHITTIER — The Barefoot Boy. St. 3.
A simple child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death?— WORDSWORTH — We Are Seven.
Sweet childish days, that were as long As twenty days are now.— WORDSWORTH — To a Butterfly.
The child is father of the man.— WORDSWORTH — My Heart Leaps Up.
The booby father craves a booby son, And by heaven's blessing thinks himself undone.— YOUNG — Love of Fame. Satire II. L. 1.
Inerat tamen simplicitas ac liberalitas, quæ, nisi adsit modus in exitium vertuntur. He possessed simplicity and liberality, qualities which beyond a certain limit lead to ruin.— TACITUS — Annales. III. 86.
In turbas et discordias pessimo cuique plurima vis: pax et quies bonis artibus indigent. In seasons of tumult and discord bad men have most power; mental and moral excellence require peace and quietness.— TACITUS — Annales. IV. 1.
Re ipsâ reperi, Facilitate nihil esse homini melius neque clementiâ. I have found by experience that there is nothing better for a man than mildness and clemency.— TERENCE — Adelphi. V. 4. 6.
The injury done to character is greater Accipe nunc Danaûm insidias, et crimine ab uno Disce omnes. Learn now of the treachery of the Greeks, and from one example the character of the nation may be known.— VIRGIL — Eneid. II. 65.
Pietas fundamentum est omnium virtutum. The dutifulness of children is the foundation of all virtues.— CICERO — Oratio Pro Cnxo Plancio. XII.
Nil dictu fœdum visuque hæc limina tangat Intra quæ puer est. Let nothing foul to either eye or ear reach those doors within which dwells a boy.— JUVENAL — Satira. XIV. 44.
Parentes objurgatione digni sunt, qui nolunt liberos suos severâ lege proficere. Parents deserve reproof when they refuse to benefit their children by severe discipline.— PETRONIUS ARBITER — Satyricon. IV.
Pudore et liberalitate liberos Retinere, satius esse credo, quam metu. It is better to keep children to their duty by a sense of honor and by kindness than by fear.— TERENCE — Adelphi. I. 1. 32.
Ut quisque suum vult esse, ita est. As each one wishes his children to be, so they are.— TERENCE — Adelphi. III. 3. 46.
Kein Talent, doch ein Charakter. No talent, but yet a character.— HEINE — Atta Troll. Caput 24.
Nie zeichnet der Mensch den eignen Charak ter schärfer als in seiner Manier, einen Fremden zu zeichnen. A man never shows his own character so plainly as by his manner of portraying another's.— JEAN PAUL RICHTER — Titan. Zykel 110.
Welch' hoher Geist in einer engen Brust. What a mighty spirit in a narrow bosom.— GOETHE — Torquato Tasso. II. 3. 199.
Brama assai, poco spera e nulla chiede. He, full of bashfulness and truth, loved much, hoped little, and desired naught.— TASSO — Gerusalemme. II. 16.
Cada uno es come Dios le hijo, y aun peor muchas vezes. Every one is as God made him, and often a great deal worse.— CERVANTES — Don Quixote. XI. 5.
Ah, il n'y a plus d'enfant. Ah, there are no children nowadays.— MOLIÈRE — Le Malade Imaginaire.
II. 2. L'enfance est le sommeil de la raison. Childhood is the sleep of reason.— ROUSSEAU — Émile. Bk. II.
Les enfants n'ont ni passé ni avenir; et, ce qui ne nous arrive guère, ils jouissent du présent. Children have neither past nor future; and that which seldom happens to us, they rejoice in the present. S.— LA BRUYÈRE — Les Caractères. XI.
Mais un fripon d'enfant (cet âge est sans pitié). But a rascal of a child (that age is without pity).— LA FONTAINE — Fables. IX. 2.
Glücklicher Säugling! dir ist ein unendlicher Raum noch die Wiege, Werde Mann, und dir wird eng die unend. liche Welt. Happy child! the cradle is still to thee a vast space; but when thou art a man the boundless world will be too small for thee.— SCHILLER — Das Kind in der Wiege.
Wage du zu irren und zu träumen. Hoher Sinn liegt oft im kind'schen Spiel. Dare to err and to dream. Deep meaning often lies in childish plays.— SCHILLER — Theklo. St. 6,