Kerry Kennedy Quotes

My very first recollection of life on earth was waking up in bed with my mother, and she was showing me a picture of my father, Charles Jackson, with a group of soldiers.

Really just about the only remembrance I have from when I was very young is the way Daddy used to place me on the refrigerator and then say, 'Jump!' and I'd jump into his arms. It was so much fun for me that even when I got too large for it to happen, I still wanted to do it anyway!

When I was little, my mom tells me, I used to say things like, 'Mom do you hear the string section? Do you hear the string section?' And she would look at me and say, 'No honey, I don't know what you're talking about.'

The funny thing about children is that, whichever room we're in, that's where they'll be. If I'm in the bath, they'll want to be in there too, playing with the toothbrush pot or brushing my hair.

First, when I was 12, I saw a Spanish girl jumping rope. I never saw her face, but it was still the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen.

Childhood smells of perfume and brownies.

Sometimes I think I am still that 5-year-old girl playing with her dogs in the yard. That's how I see myself.

At her birthday, my seven-year-old daughter will say that she wants these big cakes and certain expensive toys as presents, and I can't say no to her. It would just break my heart. But when I was little, for birthdays we just played outside and we were happy if we got any cake.

My dad was so much fun growing up.

I love being outside with my boys, playing tag or trying to keep up with them.

I had this whole ritual with my mother making the bed with me inside it so I would be invisible.

I love sleeping in my son's silly racecar bed. I love watching hours of 'Yo Gabba Gabba.' I love long playdates with his best friend Jack and traveling with Zev. Most of all I love coming home from work and seeing Zev run up to me saying, 'My mommy's home! My mommy's home!'

My very first memory of being alive is being tossed in the air by my father and laughing and knowing, really knowing, that his was absolute joy.

My favourite memory was the first time my mum bought me a bubble blower. I must have been the happiest girl in the world that day. I was all over those bubbles like a moth to a flame.

I love my time with my kids.

When I was three years old, a nanny took me shopping and I saw large cut-outs of Mary Poppins in the store and yelled, 'That's mummy!' These women walked by and said, 'Oh how cute. That little girl thinks that Mary Poppins is her mum.'

I told my mom, 'I'm gonna buy you a house one day.' I was 2 or 3 years old. I know it sounds crazy, but I did.

His parents never talked about how they met, but when Park was younger, he used to try to imagine it. He loved how much they loved each other. It was the thing he thought about when he woke up scared in the middle of the night. Not that they loved him--they were his parents, they had to love him. That they loved each other. They didn't have to do that.

So much of our early gladness vanishes utterly from our memory: we can never recall the joy with which we laid our heads on our mother's bosom or rode on our father's back in childhood; doubtless that joy is wrought up into our nature, as the sunlight of long-past mornings is wrought up in the soft mellowness of the apricot; but it is gone forever from our imagination, and we can only believe in the joy of childhood.

Hearing my daughter laugh is the best way to lift my spirit.

As a child, I would rush to the school gates as the bell went, to be collected by my mother, Marilyn, who was always immaculately dressed in a pencil skirt and matching jacket.

My kids' happiness kind of outweighs everything. Just seeing the smiles on their faces and the anticipation leading up to Christmas is what I love now, having kids of my own.

The moment I see my daughter's face, I am instantly happier, my stress just disappears, and I forget everything else.

I would say my childhood was amazing.

Childhood. I wish I had something to complain about.