Be kind to yourself, dear - to our innocent follies. Forget any sounds or touch you knew that did not help you dance. You will come to see that all evolves us.
You can't understand it until you experience the simple joy of the first time your son points at a seagull and says 'Duck!'
When you love a child, you forgive her before she can even ask. Basically you've already forgiven her for things she hasn't even done yet.
Early in life she had discovered the important truth that nothing looks so like innocence as an indiscretion; and by a series of reckless escapades, half of them quite harmless, she had acquired all the privileges of a personality.
Grains of error planted innocently in a well-kept greenhouse can become giant poisonous trees.
Children are unaccountable little creatures.
The darling mispronunciations of childhood! - dear me, there's no music that can touch it; and how one grieves when it wastes away and dissolves into correctness, knowing it will never visit his bereaved ear again.
They are the follies inherent to youth; I make sport of them, and, if you are kind, you will not yourself refuse them a good-natured smile.
