When does the loneliness of old age begin?

The child--a skilled actor with a hundred masks: a different one for his mother, father, grandmother or grandfather, for a stern or lenient teacher, for the cook or maid, for his own friends, for the rich and poor. Naive and cunning, humble and haughty, gentle and vengeful, well behaved and willful, he disguises himself so well that he can lead us by the nose.

Each person carries an entire world within himself, and everything exists twice: once the way it is, the other the way he perceives it with his own eyes and feelings.

My greatest fault is that I am no longer a child

The court does not fly off the handle. It does not shout abuse. It speaks calmly.

A hundred children, a hundred individuals who are people--not people-to-be, not people of tomorrow, but people now, right now--today.

Life bites like a dog.