I'm happy to report that my inner child is still ageless.
In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play.
In my soul, I am still that small child who did not care about anything else but the beautiful colours of a rainbow.
The real you is still a little child who never grew up. Sometimes that little child comes out when you are having fun or playing, when you feel happy, when you are painting, or writing poetry, or playing the piano, or expressing yourself in some way. These are the happiest moments of your life - when the real you comes out, when you don't care about the past and you don't worry about the future. You are childlike.
The most potent muse of all is our own inner child.
Caring for your inner child has a powerful and surprisingly quick result: Do it and the child heals.
Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.
The most sophisticated people I know - inside they are all children.
Hello, inner child, I'm the inner babysitter!
The child is in me still and sometimes not so still.
Inner child work is essential. It's the essence of growth as a whole person
The great man is he who does not lose his child's heart.
When our inner child is not nurtured and nourished, our minds gradually close to new ideas, unprofitable commitments and the surprises of the Spirit.
Seriousness is a disease.
Children have neither past nor future; they enjoy the present, which very few of us do.
I believe that this neglected, wounded, inner child of the past is the major source of human misery.
So, like a forgotten fire, a childhood can always flare up again within us.
The most sophisticated people I've ever known had just one thing in common: they were all in touch with their inner children.
Everyone is born creative; everyone is given a box of crayons in kindergarten. Then when you hit puberty they take the crayons away and replace them with dry, uninspiring books on algebra, history, etc. Being suddenly hit years later with the 'creative bug' is just a wee voice telling you, 'I'd like my crayons back, please.
Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.
When I grow up I want to be a little boy.
It sounds corny, but I've promised my inner child that never again will I ever abandon myself for anything or anyone else again.
We must remain as close to the flowers, the grass, and the butterflies as the child is who is not yet so much taller than they are.
I am often accused of being childish. I prefer to interpret that as child-like. I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things. I tend to exaggerate and fantasize and embellish. I still listen to instinctual urges. I play with leaves. I skip down the street and run against the wind. I never water my garden without soaking myself. It has been after such times of joy that I have achieved my greatest creativity and produced my best work.
When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults.
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