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Parents Quotes

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Parents Quotes

“The system that aims at educating our boys and girls in the same manner as in the circus where the trainer teaches the lion to sit on a stool, has not understood the true meaning of education itself. Instead of being like a circus where the trainer uses his stick to make animals do stunts to serve the interest of the audience, the system of education should be like an Orchestra where the conductor waves his stick to orchestrate the music already within the musicians’ heart in the most beautiful manner. The teacher should be like the conductor in the orchestra, not the trainer in the circus.”

“If education were the same as information, the encyclopedias would be the greatest sages in the world.”

“Предписывать другим правила счастья всегда казалось мне нелепостью, братец, а настаивать на их выполнении - тиранством. Заблуждение это всеобщее, я знаю, но оно все-таки заблуждение. И если оно нелепо вообще, то нелепее всего в отношении брака, в котором счастье покоится всецело на взаимной любви супругов. Поэтому я всегда считал, что родители поступают неразумно, желая выбирать за детей: ведь заставить полюбить - затея безнадежная; больше того - любовь до такой степени ненавидит принуждение, что для нее в силу какой-то несчастной, во неисцелимой извращенности нашей природы, невыносимы даже уговоры. Однако я согласен, что, хотя родители поступают неумно, пытаясь навязывать свою волю, с ними в таких случаях все же следует советоваться и, пожалуй, даже необходимо признать за ними право запрета.”

“The point is, education in its truest form, is the foundation of all human endeavors. It is the most noble of all the civilized elements of human consciousness. Education enables the humans to achieve their fullest mental and physical potential in both personal and social life. The ability of being educated is what distinguishes humans from animals. You can teach a cockatoo to repeat a bunch of vocabularies, but you cannot teach it to construct a space shuttle and go to the moon.”

“Education enables the humans to achieve their fullest mental and physical potential in both personal and social life.”

“Instead of being like a circus where the trainer uses his stick to make animals do stunts to serve the interest of the audience, the system of education should be like an Orchestra where the conductor waves his stick to orchestrate the music already within the musicians’ heart in the most beautiful manner. The teacher should be like the conductor in the orchestra, not the trainer in the circus.”

“It is not difficult for an unwise mother quite unintentionally to centre the heterosexual feelings of a young son upon herself, and it is true that, if this is done, the evil consequences pointed out by Freud will probably ensue. This is, however, much less likely to occur if the mother's sexual life is satisfying to her, for in that case she will not look to her child for a type of emotional satisfaction which ought to be sought only from adults. The parental impulse in its purity is an impulse to care for the young, not to demand affection from them, and if a woman is happy in her sexual life she will abstain spontaneously from all improper demands for emotional response from her child.”

“I’ve written more about my parents than any writer in the history of the world, and I still return to their mysterious effigies as I try to figure out what it all means—some kind of annunciation or maybe even a summing-up They still exert immense control over me even though they’ve been dead for so long. But I can conjure up their images without exerting a thimbleful of effort.”

“Jean Louise ayakta tek başına durmuyordu, onu arkadan destekleyen bir şey vardı: Hayatındaki en etkin, en güçlü manevi destek; babasının sevgisi. Bunu hiç sorgulamadı, üzerine hiç kafa yormadı, önemli bir karar almadan önce, bilinçaltından gayri ihtiyari 'Atticus olsa ne yapardı?' sorusunun geçtiğini bile fark etmedi; ayakları yere sağlam basmasını, dimdik durmasını her seferinde sağlayanın babası olduğunu, kişiliğinde düzgün ve yüksek not almaya değer ne varsa, oraya babası tarafından konulduğunu hiç ayrımsamadı; babasına taptığını hiç bilmedi. Tek bildiği, onlara şunu bunu vermedikleri, onları şu şu konuda kandırdıkları için ebeveynlerine sövüp sayan yaşıtlarına acıdığıydı. Bir sürü ruhsal çözümlemenin ardından korkularının, kaygılarının nedeninin sahip oldukları şeyler olduğunu keşfeden orta yaşlı ev kadınlarına acıyordu; babalarından Bizim İhtiyar diye bahseden, onların çapsız, büyük olasılıkla içkici, çocuklarını bir noktada fena halde ve bağışlanamaz biçimde hüsrana uğratan, yetersiz yaratıklar olduğunu ima eden kişilere üzülüyordu. Acımak konusunda savurgan, o rahat, sıcacık dünyasında kendinden memnundu.”

“If you have no arms To hold your crying child but your own arms And no legs but your own to run the stairs one more time To fetch what was forgotten I bow to you If you have no vehicle To tote your wee one but the wheels that you drive And no one else to worry, “Is my baby okay?” When you have to say goodbye on the doorsteps of daycare or on that cursed first day of school I bow to you If you have no skill but your own skill To replenish an ever-emptying bank account And no answers but your own to Satisfy the endless whys, hows, and whens your child asks and asks again I bow to you If you have no tongue to tell the truth To keep your beloved on the path without a precipice And no wisdom to impart Except the wisdom that you’ve acquired I bow to you If the second chair is empty Across the desk from a scornful, judging authority waiting For your child’s father to appear And you straighten your spine where you sit And manage to smile and say, “No one else is coming—I’m it.” Oh, I bow to you If your head aches when the spotlight finally shines on your child because your hands are the only hands there to applaud I bow to you If your heart aches because you’ve given until everything in you is gone And your kid declares, “It’s not enough.” And you feel the crack of your own soul as you whisper, “I know, baby. But it’s all mama’s got.” Oh, how I bow to you If they are your life while you are their nurse, tutor, maid Bread winner and bread baker, Coach, cheerleader and teammate… If you bleed when your child falls down I bow, I bow, I bow If you’re both punisher and hugger And your own tears are drowned out by the running of the bathroom faucet because children can’t know that mamas hurt too Oh, mother of mothers, I bow to you. —Toni Sorenson”

“That we shall use every discovery of science in the preservation of our children's health goes without saying; but we shall do more than this - we shall give them a free start, not loading them up with our own ideas and experiences, nor advising them to live according to our lights. We were burned in the fire here and there, but - who knows? - fire may not burn our children, and if we warn them away from it they may end by never growing warm. We will not even inflict our cynicism on them as the sentimentality of our fathers was inflicted on us. The most we will do is urge a little doubt, asking that the doubt be exercised on our ideas as well as on all the mortal things in this world.”

“After my parents were dead, I found in a box and in two chests of drawers nothing but hundreds of bright red Alpine caps, I said, nothing but bright red Alpine stockings. Every one of them knitted by my mother. My parents could have gone into the High Alps with these bright red caps and bright red stockings for thousands of years. I burnt every one of those bright red caps and bright red stockings, I said. I put on one of my mother's hundreds of bright red Alpine caps and in this costume burnt all the others, laughing, laughing, continuously laughing, I said. (Goethe Dies, p.65)”

“As children inch their way into adolescence, the parent changes. He is an authority, a source of answers, and a chastising voice. Depending on the day, he may be resented, emulated, questioned, or defied. Only as an adult can a child imagine his parent as a whole person, as a husband, a brother, or a son. Only then can a child see how his parent fits into the world beyond four walls. Saleem had only bits and pieces of his father, mostly the memories of a young boy. He would spend the rest of his life, he knew, trying to reconstruct his father with the scraps he could recall or gather from his mother.”

“What is the matter with people?” Sam fumed. “I said we needed a hundred kids and we get thirteen? Fifteen, maybe?” “They’re just kids,” Astrid said. “We’re all just kids. We’re all going to be very hungry kids.” “They’re used to being told what to do by their parents or teachers. You need to be more direct. As in, Hey, kid, get to work. Now.” She thought for a moment then added, “Or else.” “Or else what?” Sam asked. “Or else…I don’t know. We’re not going to let anyone starve. If we can help it. I don’t know the ‘or else.’ All I know is you can’t expect kids to just automatically behave the right way. I mean, when I was little my mom would give me a gold star when I was good and take away a privilege when I wasn’t.” “What am I supposed to do? Tell three hundred kids spread out in seventy or eighty different homes that they can’t watch DVDs? Confiscate iPods?” “It’s not easy playing daddy to three hundred kids,” Astrid admitted. “I’m not anyone’s daddy,” Sam practically snarled. Another sleepless night, in a long string of them, had left him in a foul mood. “I’m supposed to be the mayor, not the father.” “These kids don’t know the difference,” Astrid pointed out. “They need parents. So they look to you. And Mother Mary. Me, even, to some extent.”