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Beryl Markham Quotes about Children

All Beryl Markham Quotes Children quotes Dignity Doubt Loneliness Silence
I learned what every dreaming child needs to know, that no horizon is so far you cannot get above it or beyond it.

I learned what every dreaming child needs to know, that no horizon is so far you cannot get above it or beyond it.

Beryl Markham
Dream, Hope, Children
Beryl Markham (2012). “West with the Night”, p.204, Open Road Media

We swung over the hills and over the town and back again, and I saw how a man can be master of a craft, and how a craft can be master of an element. I saw the alchemy of perspective reduce my world, and all my other life, to grains in a cup. I learned to watch, to put my trust in other hands than mine. And I learned to wander. I learned what every dreaming child needs to know -- that no horizon is so far that you cannot get above it or beyond it.

Beryl Markham
Dream, Children, Men
Beryl Markham (2012). “West with the Night”, p.204, Open Road Media

There is a certain silence that can emanate from a lifeless object as from a chair lately used, or from a piano with old dust upon its keys, or from anything that has answered to the need of a man, for pleasure or for work. This kind of silence can speak. Its voice may be melancholy, but it is not always so; for the chair may have been left by a laughing child or the last notes of the piano may have been raucous and gay. Whatever the mood or the circumstance, the essence of its quality may linger in the silence that follows. It is a soundless echo.

Beryl Markham
Children, Gay, Men
Beryl Markham (2012). “West with the Night”, p.58, Open Road Media

What a child does not know and does not want to know of race and color and class, he learns soon enough as he grows to see each man flipped inexorably into some predestined groove like a penny or a sovereign in a banker's rack.

Beryl Markham
Children, Men, Race
McDougal, Beryl Markham (1997). “West with the Night”, McDougal Littell/Houghton Mifflin

What a child does not know and does not want to know of race and colour and class, he learns soon enough as he grows to see each man flipped inexorably into some predestined groove like a penny or a sovereign in a banker's rack. Kibii, the Nandi boy, was my good friend. Arab Ruta (the same boy grown to manhood), wo sits before me, is my good friend, but the handclasp will be shorter, the smile will not be so eager on his lips, and though the path is for a while the same, he will walk behind me now, when once, in the simplicity of our nonage, we walked together.

Beryl Markham
Children, Good Friend, Boys

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