Children

Your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.

The joys of parents are secret, and so are their griefs and fears.

Little Tom Tucker Sings for his supper; What shall he eat? White bread and butter. How will he cut it Without e’er a knife? How will he be married Without e’er a wife?

A child should always say what’s true,

There is something the child sees that he does not see; something the child hears that he does not hear; and this something is the most important thing of all. Because he does not understand it, his understanding is more childish than the child's and more simple than simplicity itself; in spite of the many clever wrinkles on his parchment face, and the masterly play of his fingers in unravelling the knots.

No man should bring children into the world who is unwilling to persevere to the end in their nature and education.

Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy! My sin was too much hope of thee, loved boy.

Pretty young wards in Chancery.

There were his young barbarians all at play,

I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled, and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee, or a ragout.

Our love for our children springs from the soul's greatest yearning for immortality.

Do not train a child to learn by force or harshness; but direct them to it by what amuses their minds, so that you may be better able to discover with accuracy the peculiar bent of the genius of each.

We have not all had the good fortune to be ladies. We have not all been generals, or poets, or statesmen; but when the toast works down to the babies, we stand on common ground.

All wars are boyish, and are fought by boys.

There was a little girl Who had a little curl Right in the middle of her forehead; And when she was good She was very, very good, But when she was bad she was horrid.

in Just- spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee

Children’s talent to endure stems from their ignorance of alternatives.

The value of marriage is not that adults produce children but that children produce adults.

For secrets are edged tools,

It’s frightening to think that you mark your children merely by being yourself.

The hearts of small children are delicate organs. A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious shapes.

It behooves those who take the young to task to leave them room for excuse, lest they drive them to be hardened by too much rebuke.

Yes, there is a nirvana; it is in leading your sheep to a green pasture, and in putting your child to sleep, and in writing the last line of your poem.

Heredity is what sets the parents of a teenager wondering about each other.