#childhood

This was a factory, a sorting house. We were no different from dogs and pigs and cows: all of us were allowed to play when we were small, but then, just before reaching maturity, we were sorted and classified. Being a high school student was the first step toward becoming a domestic animal. ↗

— Ryū Murakami

#childhood #education #growing-up #high-school #life

In silence the three of them looked at the sunset and thought about God. ↗

— Maud Hart Lovelace

#faith #god #sunset #thought #faith

Peanut butter is the pate of childhood. ↗

— Florence Fabricant

#food #food

Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once she grows up. ↗

— Pablo Picasso

#childhood #creativity #freedom

The nutcracker sits under the holiday tree, a guardian of childhood stories. Feed him walnuts and he will crack open a tale... ↗

— Vera Nazarian

#christmas #holiday #holidays #nutcracker #nuts

Sometimes Midas suspected that life was a film with subliminal messages. Things would move along with an acceptable degree of predictability, then be punctuated by some horrible childhood memory. ↗

— Ali Shaw

#life #memory #life

There was only silence. It was the silence of matter caught in the act and embarrassed. There were no cells moving, and yet there were cells. I could see the shape of the land, how it lay holding silence. Its poise and its stillness were unendurable, like the ring of the silence you hear in your skull when you're little and notice you're living the ring which resumes later in life when you're sick. ↗

— Annie Dillard

#land #life #matter #silence #life

That night I looked up at those same stars, but I didn't want any of those things. I didn't want Egypt, or France, or far-flung destinations. I just wanted to go back to my life from my childhood, just to visit it, and touch it, and to convince myself that yes, it had been real. ↗

— Jenny Lawson

#nostalgia #life

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

— Audrey Niffenegger

#childhood-memory #happiness #loss #love #memory

Joshie has always told Post Human Services Staff to keep a diary, to remember who we were because every moment, our brains and synapses are being rebuilt and rewired with maddening disregard for our personalities, so that each year, each month, each day, we transfer into a different person, an utterly unfaithful iteration of our original selves, of the drooling kid in the sandbox. But not me. I am still a facsimile of my early childhood. I am still looking for a loving dad to lift me up and brush the sand off my ass and to hear English, calm and hurtless, fall off his lips. ↗

— Gary Shteyngart

#dad #diary #father #love #personality