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Lost Innocence Quotes

Browse 9 quotes about Lost Innocence.

Lost Innocence Quotes

“(WHEN I WAS A CHILD) I was told that I was insane, seeing doctors in hospitals far away from home. LITTLE WHITE PILLS inside small transparent containers that could fit my baby teeth like seashells, I dreamed. WHEN I WAS A CHILD my mind made up things— not castles of sand, nor careless childish dreams. NOW I AM GROWN I can’t see myself anymore, behind walls of lights I painted on as a child. (BUT NOWADAYS) I cannot think back and wonder if these things ever really happened.”

PoetryGrowing UpMental HealthChildhood MemoriesInternal ConflictExistential PoetrySurreal PoetryLost InnocenceEmotional ReflectionMemory And Reality
Author:Laura Chouette
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“And then the queen wept with all her heart. Not for the cruel and greedy man who had warred and killed and savaged everywhere he could. But for the boy who had somehow turned into that man, the boy whose gentle hand had comforted her childhood hurts, the boy whose frightened voice had cried out to her at the end of his life, as if he wondered why he had gotten lost inside himself, as if he realized that it was too, too late to get out again.”

DeathLostGriefGrowing UpRegretGreedCrueltyToo LateThe EndLost InnocenceSaddest ThingThe Princess And The Bear
Book:Maps in a Mirror: The Short Fiction of Orson Scott Card
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“Un rato é unha cousa que se move, unha cousa que vive nos sobrados e ten un corazón pequerrechiño e dous ollos de vidro sempre acesos. Unha cousa que vai furando as tebras, xurde correndo, pasa, fuxe, líscase. Un rato é unha cousa que está viva un intre só, despois non é nada, sombra nas sombras mestas dos buratos. A noite é un burato sen orelas pra os homes, tristes ratos sin acougo. Un home é unha cousa que cavila, cismando sempre, sempre amargurado, fuxindo de outras cousas que rebulen, revolvendo papeis, decote rebulindo, sempre con presas, atafegado sempre, camiña, chouta, avanta nos buratos, nos sobrados do mundo, nas estradas da vida, nas pedras, no vento, nas rúas, nos seos das mulleres. Un rato é unha cousa que se move. Escóitame Walt Disney ¿Onde estabas que os meus soños de pombas non te viron cando o meu corazón inda era neno e había carabeles nos meus ollos?”

NightChildhoodRatsDisneyLost InnocenceMankin
Book:O Soño Sulagado
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“Dabbling in the sandbox gives Rabbit a small headache. Over at the pavilion the rubber thump of Roofball and the click of checkers call to his memory, and the forgotten smell of that narrow plastic ribbon you braid bracelets and whistlechains out of and of glue and of the sweat on the handles on athletic equipment is blown down by a breeze laced with children's murmuring. He feels the truth: the thing that has left his life has left irrevocably; no search would recover it. No flight would reach it. It was here, beneath the town, in these smells and these voices, forever behind him. The fullness ends when we give Nature her ransom, when we make children for her. Then she is through with us, and we become, first inside, and then outside, junk. Flower stalks.”

ChildhoodFutilityLost YouthRabbit AngstromLost Innocence1960Sense Memory
Book:Rabbit, Run
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“devouring their dark lips, dark with wine and fleeting love, an ancient memory love had promised but finally never gave, until there were too many kisses to count or remember, and the memory of love proved not love at all and needed a replacement, which our bodies found, and then the giggles subsided, and the laughter dimmed, and darkness enfolded all of us and we gave away our childhood for nothing and we died”

LoveDarknessSadnessYouthEmotionalReflectionMemoryNostalgiaEphemeralLost Innocence
Book:House of Leaves: The Remastered Full-Color Edition
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