child

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.

Loving my son, building my son, touching my son, playing with my son, being with my son_ these aren__ tasks that only super dads can perform. These are tasks that every dad should perform. Always. Without fail.

Dads. Do your faces light up when you first see your child in the morning or when you come home from work? Do you not understand that a child__ entire sense of value can revolve around what they see in your face when you first see them?

Do you not realize that your kids are going to make mistakes, and a lot of them? Do you not realize the damage you do when you push your son__ nose into his mishaps or make your daughter feel worthless because she bumped or spilled something? Do you have any idea how easy it is to make your child feel abject? It__ as simple as letting out the words, __hy would you do that!?_ or __ow many times have I told you_

Everytime I hold you is the last time I hold you, I've known that since the very first time.

Dads. Do you not realize that a child is what you tell them they are? That people almost always become what they are labeled? Was whatever your child just did really the __umbest thing you__e ever seen somebody do_? Was it really the __ost ridiculous thing they ever could have done_? Do you really believe that your child is an idiot? Because she now does. Think about that. Because you said it, she now believes it. Bravo.

Dads. It__ time to tell our kids that we love them. Constantly. It__ time to show our kids that we love them. Constantly. It__ time to take joy in their twenty-thousand daily questions and their inability to do things as quickly as we__ like. It__ time to take joy in their quirks and their ticks. It__ time to take joy in their facial expressions and their mispronounced words. It__ time to take joy in everything that our kids are.

Children are gifts. They are not ours for the breaking. They are ours for the making.

All my life,I've been afraid of things, as a child and a woman must be. I lied about it naturally. I fancied myself a witch and walked in dark streets to punish myself for my doubts. But I knew what it meant to be afraid.And now, in this darkness, I fear nothing. If you were to leave me here, I would feel nothing. I would walk as I am walking now. As a man, you can't know what I mean by what I say.You can't know a woman's vulnerability. You can't know the sense of power that belongs to me now.

one of the best and the most painful things about time traveling has been the opportunity to see my mother alive.

Dads. It__ time to show our sons how to properly treat a woman. It__ time to show our daughters how a girl should expect be treated. It__ time to show forgiveness and compassion. It__ time to show our children empathy. It__ time to break social norms and teach a healthier way of life! It__ time to teach good gender roles and to ditch the unnecessary ones. Does it really matter if your son likes the color pink? Is it going to hurt anybody? Do you not see the damage it inflicts to tell a boy that there is something wrong with him because he likes a certain color? Do we not see the damage we do in labeling our girls __om boys_ or our boys __eminine_ just because they have their own likes and opinions on things? Things that really don__ matter?

A child who grows up too closely aligned with adults assumes knowledge of a life she hasn__ yet experienced.

Woman, the child of so many tears shall never perish.

I hear the birds singing. Listen. I hear them in their cage. The others-all our kind who know of her-they think of her as heartless, but she wasn't heartless. She was only aware of things which I didn't learn till so many decades had passed. She knew secrets that only suffering can teach...

Why the Romans, Father?" I asked him one afternoon. "Because, my child, they teach us how to bear suffering in a world of injustice where all faith is dead," he answered.

Trying to rewrite the past was a child's game, a pointless, ridiculous child's game no one ever won.

Everybody tries to protect this vulnerable two three four five six seven eight year old inside, and to acquire skills and aptitudes for dealing with the situations that threaten to overwhelm it... Usually, that child is a wretchedly isolated undeveloped little being. It__ been protected by the efficient armour, it__ never participated in life, it__ never been exposed to living and to managing the person__ affairs, it__ never been given responsibility for taking the brunt. And it__ never properly lived. That__ how it is in almost everybody. And that little creature is sitting there, behind the armour, peering through the slits. And in its own self, it is still unprotected, incapable, inexperienced...And in fact, that child is the only real thing in them. It__ their humanity, their real individuality, the one that can__ understand why it was born and that knows it will have to die, in no matter how crowded a place, quite on its own. That__ the carrier of all the living qualities. It__ the centre of all the possible magic and revelation. What doesn__ come out of that creature isn__ worth having, or it__ worth having only as a tool__or that creature to use and turn to account and make meaningful...And so, wherever life takes it by surprise, and suddenly the artificial self of adaptations proves inadequate, and fails to ward off the invasion of raw experience, that inner self is thrown into the front line__nprepared, with all its childhood terrors round its ears.And yet that__ the moment it wants. That__ where it comes alive__ven if only to be overwhelmed and bewildered and hurt. And that__ where it calls up its own resources__ot artificial aids, picked up outside, but real inner resources, real biological ability to cope, and to turn to account, and to enjoy.That__ the paradox: the only time most people feel alive is when they__e suffering, when something overwhelms their ordinary, careful armour, and the naked child is flung out onto the world. That__ why the things that are worst to undergo are best to remember.But when that child gets buried away under their adaptive and protective shells__e becomes one of the walking dead, a monster. So when you realise you__e gone a few weeks and haven__ felt that awful struggle of your childish self__truggling to lift itself out of its inadequacy and incompetence__ou__l know you__e gone some weeks without meeting new challenge, and without growing, and that you__e gone some weeks towards losing touch with yourself.

If you want, you can be a child for the rest of your life and be a great LEARNER