E. B. White Quotes

Everybody's twelve years old in an apple orchard.

That's one of the great gifts of this, the greatest of all games, baseball: it allows you, still, to lose yourself in a dream, to feel and remember a season of life when summer never seemed to die and the assault of cynicism hadn't begun to batter optimism.

'In Ear Park' perfectly encapsulates the beauty of youth for me.

For me, baseball just brings up a lot of nostalgic, happy feelings because I enjoyed it as a kid, and I liked being out there playing in the sun, and it was a simpler time for all of us.

I can remember being eight, and I like writing about that age of innocence when children still have a sense of wonder.

I've always reverted to a sense of childhood, just in everyday life.

I think childhood is to everyone a lost land.

Children are the keys of paradise.

Where children are, there is the golden age.

When you're young you have no worries, no drama, only your imagination. It's the best!

Success, for me, is being able to wake up in the morning and feel like a 12 year old.

We're children. We're supposed to be childish.

I remember once walking out hand in hand with a boy I knew, and it was summer, and suddenly before us was a field of gold. Gold as far as you could see. We knew we'd be rich forever. We filled our pockets and our hair. We were rolled in gold. We ran through the field laughing and our legs and feet were coated in yellow dust, so that we were like golden statues or golden gods. He kissed my feet, the boy I was with, and when he smiled, he had a gold tooth. It was only a field of buttercups, but we were young.

Do you hear the children singing?

When we were children we were errant enough to wish to be birds for the day but there's nothing easier to lose than playfulness.

The older I grow the more earnestly I feel that the few joys of childhood are the best that life has to give.

We start out in our lives as little children, full of light and the clearest vision.

Don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple.

Aching familiar in a way that made me wish I was still eight. Eight was before death or divorce or heartbreak. Eight was just eight. Hot dogs and peanut butter, mosquito bites and splinters, bikes and boogie boards. Tangled hair, sunburned shoulders, Judy Blume, in bed by nine thirty.

May my heart always be open to little birds, who are the secrets of living. Whatever they sing is better than to know. And if men should not hear them - then men are old.

It felt like being a child again, though it was not. Being a child is like nothing. It's only being. Later, when we think about it, we make it into youth.

You go back. You search for what made you happy when you were smaller. We are all grown up children, really... So one should go back and search for what was loved and found to be real.

Be a child again. Flirt. Giggle. Dip your cookies in your milk. Take a nap. Say you're sorry if you hurt someone. Chase a butterfly. Be a child again.

I always felt the world cannot fall apart as long as free men see the rainbow, feel the rain and hear the laugh of a child.