The New Child who lives where I live Gives one hand to me And the other to everything that exists, And so the three of us go along whatever road we find, Leaping and singing and laughing And enjoying our shared secret Of knowing that in all the world
There is no mystery And that everything is worthwhile.
“You are asking, “Is there any possibility that I will ever grow up?” There are all the possibilities. For the humble heart everything is possible, for the egoist nothing is possible. For a person who can accept that “I am nobody,” all doors suddenly open, all the mysteries of existence become available. For the man who can say, “I do not know,” a miracle becomes possible. In his acceptance of not knowing he starts becoming wise because he starts becoming like a child, utterly innocent.”
“When I look at the galaxies on a clear night – when I look at the incredible brilliance of creation, and think that this is what God is like, then instead of feeling intimidated and diminished by it, I am enlarged . . . I rejoice that I am a part of it.”
“To both the racist and the puritan, childhood is not a time of life that we grow out of, as the life of the child grows out of the life of the parent or as a plant grows out of the soil, but a time and state of consciousness to be left behind, to cut oneself off from … The child may be joyous, the man must be sober and self-denying; the child may be free, the man is to be “responsible”; the child may be candid in his feelings, the man must be polite, restrained, mindful of the demands of convention; the child may be playful, the man must be industrious. I am not necessarily objecting to the manly virtues, but I am objecting that they should be so exclusively assigned to grownups, and that grownups should be so exclusively restricted to them. A man may have all the prescribed adult virtues and, if he lacks the childhood virtues, still be a dunce and a bore and a liar.”