“I was a devil of a scapegrace in my time.... Father racked his head for days together to find a punishment that I should remember; but it was all no good... bread and water was a welcome change to me from the everyday monotony of potatoes and bread-and-butter. After a sound drubbing followed by half a day’s fasting, I felt more like laughing than like crying; and, in half a while, all was forgotten and my wickedness began afresh and worse than ever.” ShouldTogetherRememberFatherFeltSoundWaterHalfLaughingCryDevilEverydayForgottenPunishmentBreadWelcomeMy TimeWickednessPotatoesFastingMonotonyBread And Butter Book:The Path of Life Source: The Path of Life
“The tender Evenlode that makes Her meadows hush to hear the sound Of waters mingling in the brakes, And binds my heart to English ground. A lovely river, all alone, She lingers in the hills and holds A hundred little towns of stone, Forgotten in the western wolds.” HeartLittlesSoundWaterMy HeartHundredRiversStonesTownsWesternForgottenLovelyHillsMeadowsAll AloneHushBrakeLittle TownsMinglingSound Of Water Book:Hilaire Belloc: An Anthology of His Prose and Verse Source: Hilaire Belloc: An Anthology of His Prose and Verse
“I closed my eyes and listened to the occasional chirps of tiny birds hidden in the trees around us, the bubbling of water over rocks down below, cicadas rattling a chorus off in the distance. All sounds of the world carrying on like it always had. So much could change or be lost, and still, the rest of the world went on like it was nothing. It didn't seem wrong, but it didn't seem right either. I'd gone on today like it was nothing. I'd laughed and felt happy and forgotten for a little while that this was now a world without my brother in it.” WorldLittlesStillsSeemsEyeTodayLostFeltSoundWaterGoneTreeRocksBrotherBirdDistanceForgottenTinyMy BrotherLaughedOccasionalChorusCarrying OnCicadas Author:Jessi Kirby
“We've forgotten what it's like not to be able to reach the light switch. We've forgotten a lot of the monsters that seemed to livein our room at night. Nevertheless, those memories are still there, somewhere inside us, and can sometimes be brought to the surface by events, sights, sounds, or smells. Children, though, can never have grown-up feelings until they've been allowed to do the growing.” ChildrenStillsSometimesFeelingsLightAbleNightSoundMemoriesRoomsGrowingEventsSightForgottenSmellSurfaceMonstersNevertheless Author:Fred Rogers