Children S Authors

"What lovely things Thy hand hath made."

"“Bunches of grapes,” says Timothy; “Pomegranates pink,” says Elaine; “A junket of cream and a cranberry tart For me,” says Jane."

"So, blind to Someone I must be."

"“A bumpity ride in a wagon of hay”"

"Dobbin at manger pulls his hay: Gone is another summer’s day."

"Poor tired Tim! It’s sad for him He lags the long bright morning through, Ever so tired of nothing to do."

"De la Mare’s poetry represents some of the finest, beautifully crafted, classical verse of the twentieth century. It is truly tragic that his poems remain largely neglected, forgotten as the world passed them by."

"All but blind In his chambered hole Gropes for worms The four-clawed Mole."

"Softly along the road of evening, In a twilight dim with rose, Wrinkled with age, and drenched with dew Old Nod, the shepherd, goes."

"His are the quiet steeps of dreamland, The waters of no-more-pain; His ram’s bell rings ‘neath an arch of stars, “Rest, rest, and rest again.”"

"Some one came knocking At my wee, small door; Some one came knocking, I’m sure—sure—sure."

"We wake and whisper awhile, But, the day gone by, Silence and sleep like fields Of amaranth lie."

"Bang! Now the animal Is dead and dumb and done. Nevermore to peep again, creep again, leap again, Eat or sleep or drink again, oh, what fun!"

"Wonderful lovely there she sat, Singing the night away, All in the solitudinous sea Of that there lonely bay."

"Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose."

"For beauty with sorrow Is a burden hard to be borne: The evening light on the foam, and the swans, there; That music, remote, forlorn."

"A face peered. All the grey night In chaos of vacancy shone; Nought but vast sorrow was there— The sweet cheat gone."

"Do diddle di do, Poor Jim Jay Got stuck fast In Yesterday."

"It's a very odd thing— As odd as can be— That whatever Miss T. eats Turns into Miss T."

"Three jolly huntsmen, In coats of red, Rode their horses Up to bed."

"Look thy last on all things lovely, Every hour—let no night Seal thy sense in deathly slumber Till to delight Thou hast paid thy utmost blessing."

"‘Who knocks?’ ‘I, who was beautiful, Beyond all dreams to restore, I from the roots of the dark thorn am hither, And knock on the door.’"

"Old Rover in his moss-greened house Mumbles a bone, and barks at a mouse."

"Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon."

"A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With silver claws and silver eye; And moveless fish in the water gleam, By silver reeds in a silver stream."

"Here lies a most beautiful lady, Light of step and heart was she; I think she was the most beautiful lady That ever was in the West Country."

"But beauty vanishes; beauty passes; However rare—rare it be; And when I crumble, who will remember This lady of the West Country?"

"Summer fog. It leached all color and substance from the world, leaving only grays. Lead gray tombstone gray cobweb gray ash gray snot gray dust gray corpse gray. It was unheard-of that there be fog at this time of the year, late August. So it had to be another portent — as dire a one as the death of the One-Handed Warrior. There were many who said that the fog had its origin in the supercooled ashes of the hero: each molecule of his scattered body accreting water vapor, each tiny relic drawing to itself the air's own tears to fashion this wide-spreading shroud over the Many-Colored Land."

"Isn't Biblical Eden an ambivalent symbol? It seems to me that the myth simply show us that self-awareness and intelligence are perilous. And they can be deadly. But consider the alternative to the Tree of Knowledge. Would anyone want innocence at such a price? Not me."

"There is no such thing as love at first sight, Bryan. There’s only sex at first sight."

"Die Königin...trat vor ihren Spiegel und sprach: "Spieglein, Spieglein, an der Wand, Wer ist die Schönste im ganzen Land?" Da antwortete der Spiegel: "Frau Königin, Ihr seid die Schönste hier, Aber Schneewittchen über den Bergen Bei den sieben Zwergen Ist noch tausendmal schöner als Ihr.""

"Und wie sie hineintrat, erkannte sie Schneewittchen, und vor Angst und Schrecken stand sie da und konnte sich nicht regen. Aber es waren schon eiserne Pantoffel über Kohlenfeuer gestellt und wurden mit Zangen hereingetragen und vor sie hingestellt. Da mußte sie in die rotglühenden Schuhe treten und so lange tanzen, bis sie tot zur Erde fiel."

"Der erste sprach: "Wer hat auf meinem Stühlchen gesessen?" Der zweite: "Wer hat von meinem Tellerchen gegessen?" Der dritte: "Wer hat von meinem Brötchen genommen?" Der vierte: "Wer hat von meinem Gemüschen gegessen?" Der fünfte: "Wer hat mit meinem Gäbelchen gestochen?" Der sechste: "Wer hat mit meinem Messerchen geschnitten?" Der siebente: "Wer hat aus meinem Becherlein getrunken?" Dann sah sich der erste um und sah, dass auf seinem Bett eine kleine Delle war, da sprach er: "Wer hat in meinem Bettchen gelegen?" Die anderen kamen gelaufen und riefen: "In meinem hat auch jemand gelegen!" Der siebente aber, als er in sein Bett sah, erblickte Schneewittchen, das lag darin und schlief. Nun rief er die anderen, die kamen herbeigelaufen und schrien vor Verwunderung, holten ihre sieben Lichtlein und beleuchteten Schneewittchen."

"Und als sie ganz nahe herankamen, so sahen sie, daß das Häuslein aus Brot gebaut war und mit Kuchen gedeckt; aber die Fenster waren von hellem Zucker."

"Ei, Großmutter, was hast du für große Ohren!" "Daß ich dich besser hören kann." "Ei, Großmutter, was hast du für große Augen!" "Daß ich dich besser sehen kann." "Ei, Großmutter, was hast du für große Hände" "Daß ich dich besser packen kann." "Aber, Großmutter, was hast du für ein entsetzlich großes Maul!" "Daß ich dich besser fressen kann."

""Nun, Frau Königin, wie heiß' ich?" Fragte sie erst: "Heißest du Kunz?" "Nein." "Heißest du Heinz?" "Nein." "Heißt du etwa Rumpelstilzchen?" "Das hat dir der Teufel gesagt, das hat dir der Teufel gesagt," schrie das Männlein."

"Wenn die Zauberin hinein wollte, so stellte sie sich unten hin und rief: "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Laß mir dein Haar herunter!" Rapunzel hatte lange, prächtige Haare, fein wie gesponnen Gold. Wenn sie nun die Stimme der Zauberin vernahm, so band sie ihre Zöpfe los, wickelte sie oben um einen Fensterhaken, und dann fielen die Haare zwanzig Ellen tief herunter, und die Zauberin stieg daran hinauf."

""Was hast du gelernt? Wieviel Künste verstehst du?" "Ich verstehe nur eine einzige," antwortete bescheidentlich die Katze. "Was ist das für eine Kunst?" fragte der Fuchs. "Wenn die Hunde hinter mir her sind, so kann ich auf einen Baum springen und mich retten." "Ist das alles?" sagte der Fuchs, "Ich bin Herr über Hundert Künste und habe überdies noch einen Sack voll Liste"."

"Zur Zeit, wo das Wünschen noch geholfen hat, ward ein Königssohn von einer alten Hexe verwünscht, dass er im Walde in einem großen Eisenofen sitzen sollte."

"Entertainment written for children was no less grisly. In 1815 Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm published a compendium of old folktales that had gradually been adapted for children. Commonly known as Grimm’s Fairy Tales, the collection ranks with the Bible and Shakespeare as one of the bestselling and most respected works in the Western canon. Though it isn’t obvious from the bowdlerized versions in Walt Disney films, the tales are filled with murder, infanticide, cannibalism, mutilation, and sexual abuse—grim fairy tales indeed. Take just the three famous stepmother stories: During a famine, the father and stepmother of Hansel and Gretel abandon them in a forest so that they will starve to death. The children stumble upon an edible house inhabited by a witch, who imprisons Hansel and fattens him up in preparation for eating him. Fortunately Gretel shoves the witch into a fiery oven, and “the godless witch burned to death in a horrible way.” Cinderella’s stepsisters, when trying to squeeze into her slippers, take their mother’s advice and cut off a toe or heel to make them fit. Doves notice the blood, and after Cinderella marries the prince, they peck out the stepsisters’ eyes, punishing them “for their wickedness and malice with blindness for the rest of their lives.” Snow White arouses the jealousy of her stepmother, the queen, so the queen orders a hunter to take her into the forest, kill her, and bring back her lungs and liver for the queen to eat. When the queen realizes that Snow White has escaped, she makes three more attempts on her life, two by poison, one by asphyxiation. After the prince has revived her, the queen crashes their wedding, but “iron slippers had already been heated up for her over a fire of coals.... She had to put on the red-hot iron shoes and dance in them until she dropped to the ground dead.” As we shall see, purveyors of entertainment for young children today have become so intolerant of violence that even episodes of the early Muppets have been deemed too dangerous for them."

"Every time I do anything, I have to ask myself: Is it a good role, and is it right to do it? There may be sex or nudity or violence in the script, and then you have to say: Is it gratuitous just out to shock people? Or is it there because it has to be? If role demands it, and it isn't gratuitous, I'll do it. It's my job, after all. I'm an actress. I know what I'm capable of — it's other people who have a problem with my image, not me. I hope I can do all sorts of things, not just one type who's all sweetness and light. Unfortunately, people forget it's a role and confuse it with you."

"As you become older, you become less judgmental and take offense less. But marriage is hard work; the illusion that you get married and live happily ever after is absolute rubbish."

"My first profession was singing, and I'm always guilty that I don't practice enough... I love to exercise, to write, to be Mrs. Edwards, to be with my kids, and there's just not enough time in the day to do all the things I want to do. I just do what seems to have to be done, but I'm never as ready as I think I should be. I try to deal with priorities, but it tears me apart. Unfortunately something always has to go by the wayside. Ultimately, I guess, it all balances out."

"I've learned things about myself through singing. I used to have a certain dislike of the audience, not as individual people, but as a giant body who was judging me. Of course, it wasn't really them judging me. It was me judging me. Once I got past that fear, it freed me up, not just when I was performing but in other parts of my life."

"I think of part of myself as a very passionate person, but I don't think that comes across. I don't know where it comes from, that reserve or veneer of British niceness. But it doesn't bother me if other people don't spot the passion. I know it's there... As long as Blake knows."

"I'm more contented and at peace with myself now than I was as a box-office queen. I'm less uptight. I've even reached a stage where it doesn't shatter me if somebody prints something bad about me."

"I certainly wouldn't compare the rewards of watching one's children grow and mature with that of money piling up at the box office. Both are pleasant, but to varying degrees. As the old saying goes, you can't take an audience home with you. You can't depend on the loyalty of fans, who, after all is said and done, are just faceless people one seldom sees. And few stars have their fans forever. But a child is forever. That bond and relationship is timeless and doesn't depend on your looks, age or popularity at the moment."

"I saw The Sound of Music again recently, and I loved it. Probably it's a more valuable film now than when it first came out, because some of the things it stood for have already disappeared. There's a kind of naive loveliness about it, and love goes by so fast … love and music and happiness and family, that's what it's all about. I believe in these things. It would be awful not to, wouldn't it?"

"I've never minded being disciplined. I'd always rather have a quiet evening in than go to a wild party. Discipline for me has always been the foundation which leaves me free to fly."

"That's All Folks!"