“…If I ever got sloppy and maudlin, it would be for the streets of my childhood—but no self- respecting writer should ever eulogize a slum…”— John Geddes
“There would remain no sign of you ever having played in this house. Your childhood is going to be swept under a camel-skin rug and elevators are going to be built over the lake we once swam in. This address, as we know it, would be lost forever and we’ll wake up in a box-sized room: cramped, trampled and sensationally unhappy.'(‘Left from Dhakeshwari’)”— Kunal Sen
“It must have been an endless breathing in: between the wish to know and the wish to praise there was no seam.”— Margaret Atwood
“…when I was a kid, Toronto streets were deserted and quiet on Sundays, except for the sound of church bells I stood on the sidewalk one December listening to the Christmas bells – I’ve never forgotten that moment…”— John Geddes
“When Uncle W. G. held out his hand to take my money, I dropped the dead mouse in his hand.”— Earl B. Russell
“That’s the paradox: the only time most people feel alive is when they’re suffering, when something overwhelms their ordinary, careful armour, and the naked child is flung out onto the world. That’s why the things that are worst to undergo are best to remember. But when that child gets buried away under their adaptive and protective shells—he becomes one of the walking dead, a monster.”— Ted Hughes
“Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupations, That is known as the Children’s Hour.”— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
“In the life of everyone there is a limited number of experiences which are not written upon the memory, but stamped there with a die; and in the long years after, they can be called up in detail, and every emotion that was stirred by them can be lived through anew; these are the tragedies of life.”— James Weldon Johnson
“…some nights I’d sneak out and listen to the radio in my Dad’s old Chevy – children need solitude – they don’t teach that in school…”— John Geddes