Language Grows Out Of Life, Out Of

I'd Rather Break Stones On The King's Highway Than Hem A Handkerchief.

You Cannot Touch The Clouds, You Know; But You Feel The Rain And Know How Glad The Flowers And The Thirsty Earth Are To Have It After A Hot Day. You Cannot Touch Love Either; But You Feel The Sweetness That It Pours Into Everything. Without Love You Would Not Be Happy Or Want To Play.

We Are Bothered A Good Deal By People Who Assume The Responsibility Of The World When God Is Neglectful.

Is It Not True, Then, That My Life With All Its Limitation Touches At Many Points The Life Of The World Beautiful? Everything Has Its Wonders, Even Darkness And Silence, And I Learn, Whatever State I May Be, Therein To Be Content.

I Am Beginning To Suspect All Elaborate And Special Systems Of Education. They Seem To Me To Be Built Upon The Supposition That Every Child Is A Kind Of Idiot Who Must Be Taught To Think. Whereas If The Child Is Left To Himself, He Will Think More And Better , If Less "showily." Let Him Come And Go Freely, Let Him Touch Real Things And Combine His Impressions For Himself... Teaching Fills The Mind With Artificial Associations That Must Be Got Rid Of Before The Child Can Develop Independent Ideas Out Of Actual Experiences.