Childhood is the world of miracle and wonder; as if creation rose, bathed in the light, out of the darkness, utterly new and fresh and astonishing. The end of childhood is when things cease to astonish us.
Interpretation
Childhood is a magical time filled with awe and wonder, which diminishes as we grow older.
Eugene Ionesco's quote reflects on the extraordinary perspective of childhood, when everything seems fresh and miraculous. As we age, this sense of wonder fades, marking the end of childhood as the point where we become less surprised and amazed by the world around us.
In practice
This quote can be used in a speech about the importance of maintaining a sense of wonder as we grow older.
Since the death instinct exists in the heart of everything that lives, since we suffer from trying to repress it, since everything that lives longs for rest, let us unfasten the ties that bind us to life, let us cultivate our death wish, let us develop it, water it like a plant, let it grow unhindered. Suffering and fear are born from the repression of the death wish.
No society has been able to abolish human sadness, no political system can deliver us from the pain of living, from our fear of death, our thirst for the absolute. It is the human condition that directs the social condition, not vice versa.
Drama lies in extreme exaggeration of the feelings, an exaggeration that dislocates flat everyday reality.
Language should almost break up or explode in its fruitless effort to contain so many meanings.
The brightest light, the light of Italy, the purest sky of Scandinavia in the month of June is only a half-light when one compares it to the light of childhood. Even the nights were blue.
Why do people always expect authors to answer questions? I am an author because I want to ask questions. If I had answers, I'd be a politician.
The content or time-clothing of any medium or culture is the preceding medium or culture.
Give a man religion without reminding him of his filth, and the result will be arrogance in a three- piece suit.
Mom said, "His spirit is there," and that made me really angry. I told her, "Dad didn't have a spirit! He had cells!" "His memory is there." "His memory is here," I said, pointing at my head. "Dad had a spirit," she said, like she was rewinding a bit in our conversation. I told her, "He had cells, and now they're on rooftops, and in the river, and in the lungs of millions of people around New York, who breathe him every time they speak!
Wars are fought for the benefit of oligarchs, triumphs bought with the blood of peons.
Scenes are now to take place as will open the eyes of credulity and of insanity itself, to the dangers of a paper medium abandoned to the discretion of avarice and of swindlers.
Guilt is altruism's stock in trade, and the inducing of guilt is its only means of self-perpetuati on.
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