A Quote by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

He holds him with his glittering eye, And listens like a three years' child. — © Samuel Taylor Coleridge
He holds him with his glittering eye, And listens like a three years' child.
My dad was an only child. His father raised him all but alone after his mother abandoned the two of them. He was only three years old.
Here’s how a child listens: you tell him something, and he puts his own interpretation on what you said. That’s what he hears. No one has ever heard you.
The child gets two confusing messages when a parent tells him which is the right fork to use, and then proceeds to use the wrong one. So does the child who listens to parents bicker and fuss, yet is told to be nice to his brothers and sisters.
The mother loves her child most divinely, not when she surrounds him with comfort and anticipates his wants but when she resolutely holds him to the highest standards and is content with nothing less than his best.
What makes a free thinker is not his beliefs, but the way in which he holds them. If he holds them because his elders told him they were true when he was young, or if he holds them because if he did not he would be unhappy, his thought is not free; but if he holds them because, after careful thought, he finds a balance in their favor, then his thought is free, however odd his conclusions may seem.
You have a wonderful child. Then, when he's thirteen, gremlins carry him away and leave in his place a stranger who gives you not a moment's peace. You have to hang in there, because two or three years later, the gremlins will return your child and he will be wonderful again.
As love is full of unbefitting strains, All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye, Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To every varied object in his glance
Atul had a child from his first marriage but lost him when he was just 16 years old. His wife died 7-8 years later. He's really had a tough life. Probably these experiences have made him a more sensitive, caring and loving person... Had we been 20 years younger, we definitely would have had children.
As a child, he had hardened his heart and learned to take their punches. He had learned to spit back and take down anyone who cast a jaundiced eye or who made a comment about either him, his mother, or his sister. He’d told himself that he didn’t need anyone’s love or caring. And so he had learned to live like a feral animal, always ready to strike out when someone tried to touch him.
A lot of people forget that I played for seven years in the lower divisions; it wasn't always 'this glittering career.' I had to wait a long time and even in the early days at Man U, for three years we didn't win anything.
From, like, two, three years old, I was obsessed with Michael Jackson and just wanted to be on stage with him. And my mum put me in dance classes, but I had a lot of social anxiety and didn't want to be around people; I didn't like to look at anyone in the eye, so that was a difficult thing to get over.
I look at [books] as a child looks at cakes - with glittering eyes and a watering mouth, imagining the pleasure that awaits him.
Only to two or three persons in all the world are the reminiscences of a man's early youth interesting: to the parent who nursed him; to the fond wife or child mayhap afterwards who loves him; to himself always and supremely--whatever may be his actual prosperity or ill fortune, his present age, illness, difficulties, renown, or disappointments--the dawn of his life still shines brightly for him, the early griefs and delights and attachments remain with him ever faithful and dear.
The eye is the window of the soul, the mouth the door. The intellect, the will, are seen in the eye; the emotions, sensibilities, and affections, in the mouth. The animals look for man's intentions right into his eyes. Even a rat, when you hunt him and bring him to bay, looks you in the eye.
As Anna Freud remarked, the toddler who wanders off into some other aisle, feels lost, and screams anxiously for his mother neversays "I got lost," but accusingly says "You lost me!" It is a rare mother who agrees that she lost him! she expects her child to stay with her; in her experience it is the child who has lost track of the mother, while in the child's experience it is the mother who has lost track of him. Each view is entirely correct from the perspective of the individual who holds it .
The problem I have with Bill Parcells is him quitting. I don't like guys quitting. If you sign up for something, finish the job get the job done. Don't quit. It is a three-year formula, he goes in, gets his three years and then he quits and walks out of there with a bucket full of money. I don't like that part of it
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