Thomas Hood Quotes

The walls of our upstairs hallway testify that we once had photogenic children. There are rows of framed pictures that show them playing baseball, basketball, holding a toad, and smiling in the sunlight at their eager parents. Everything is orderly and bright.

... a country encapsulates our childhood and those lanes, byres, fields, flowers, insects, suns, moons and stars are forever reoccurring.

I love kids. I was a kid myself, once.

I love to see a wood full of bluebells. Growing up in the Kent countryside, I have special memories of this brief annual spectacle.

Baseball represents family. It represents my childhood.

I loved being outside. We'd hold lightning bugs in our fingers and pretend they were diamond rings.

As a child, our house had a backyard lined with roses tended vigilantly by my mother. So the fragrance fills me with nostalgia for my youth.

Roses are my favourite flower, and my mum always grew a lot of them.

I did grow up in Kenosha, Wisconsin, around a lot of my mom's family. I had a lot of cousins and aunts and uncles around me, and my sisters and my brother. Probably the most formative part of it was that we grew up on the edge of a forest. It wasn't a big forest, but it was enough. When you're a kid, it feels gigantic.

I was actually born in Miami. We would spend the summers there growing up, so it's like my second home.

I have a daughter, and fairies meant a lot to her growing up.

I always wish I could go back and see the people that I love as children.

As a child, I was lucky enough to spend each summer with my grandmother.

I love playing in the Garden. My dad used to tell me stories about playing here. So to see that crowd, it's crazy.

There was an old acoustic in the house that my mother had given me for my fifth birthday. I took it off the wall and started jamming. I was seven years old at the time.

I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen, of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been; Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were, with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.

Stormy skies, says Ernesto. He grieved for them. Summer rain. Childhood.

Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, Be careful ere ye enter in, to fill Your baskets high With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines Savory latter-mint, and columbines.

The place is changed now, and many familiar faces are gone, but the greatest change is myself. I was a child then, I had no idea what the world would be like. I wished to trust myself on the waters and the sea. Everything was romantic in my imagination. The woods were peopled by the mysterious good folk. The Lords and Ladies of the last century walked with me along the overgrown paths, and picked the old fashioned flowers among the box and rose hedges of the garden.

...and again she wished for Sherwood, and the dappled roof of leaves that never weighed upon her. She pulled her scarf closer around her and thought, I would rather live in a hut in the woods; a hut like the one of my first memories, with a clean-swept dirt floor, and a brown-eyed boy watching me from behind his mother's skirts as I watched him from behind mine.

Every flower about a house certifies to the refinement of somebody. Every vine climbing and blossoming tells of love and joy

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.

Everybody's twelve years old in an apple orchard.

I cherish my childish loves--the memory of that warm little nest where my affections were fledged.