Robert Louis Stevenson Quotes About Children
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Away down the river, A hundred miles or more, Other little children Shall bring my boats ashore.
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Flower god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful, Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles, Here I wander in April Cold, grey-headed; and still to my Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer, Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant; Spring, flower-planter in meadows, Child-conductor in willowy Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses: Here that child from his heart drinks of eternity: O child, happy are children!
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The ideal story is that of two people who go into love step for step, with a fluttered consciousness, like a pair of children venturing together into a dark room.
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Death is given in a kiss; the dearest kindnesses are fatal; and into this life, where one thing preys upon another, the child too often makes its entrance from the mother's corpse.
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Children are certainly too good to be true.
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Fiction is to the grown man what play is to the child; it is there that he changes the atmosphere and tenor of his life.
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Cruel children, crying babies, All grow up as geese and gabies, Hated, as their age increases, By their nephews and their nieces.
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The man is a success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who leaves the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; who never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; who looked for the best in others and gave the best he had.
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How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do!
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If you would grow great and stately, You must try to walk sedately.
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The child that is not clean and neat, With lots of toys and things to eat, He is a naughty child, I'm sure-- Or else his dear Papa is poor.
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Every child can remember laying his head in the grass, staring into the infinitesimal forest and seeing it grow populous with fairy armies.
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Fiction is to grown men what play is to the child.
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To love playthings well as a child, to lead an adventurous and honorable youth, and to settle when the time arrives, into a green and smiling age, is to be a good artis en life and deserve well of yourself and your neighbor.
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A child should always say what's true, And speak when he is spoken to, And behave mannerly at table: At least as far as he is able.
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How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do! Up in the air and over the wall, Till I can see so wide, River and trees and cattle and all Over the countryside. Till I look down on the garden green, Down on the roof so brown- Up in the air I go flying again, Up in the air and down!
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Robert Louis Stevenson
- Born: November 13, 1850
- Died: December 3, 1894
- Occupation: Novelist