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.

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.

My lovely living Boy,
My hope, my hap, my Love, my life, my joy.
- Guillaume read more

My lovely living Boy,
My hope, my hap, my Love, my life, my joy.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,

Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
read more

Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day.

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.

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.

Diogenes struck the father when the son swore.

Diogenes struck the father when the son swore.

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.

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.