Here’s a link to Deep Thoughts by children. This one made me PIMP:
I gaze at the brilliant full moon. The same one, I think to myself, at which Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato gazed. Suddenly, I imagine they appear beside me. I tell Socrates about the national debate over one’s right to die and wonder at the constancy of the human condition. I tell Plato that I live in the country that has come the closest to Utopia, and I show him a copy of the Constitution. I tell Aristotle that we have found many more than four basic elements and I show him a periodic table. I get a box of kitchen matches and strike one. They gasp with wonder. We spend the rest of the night lighting farts. Age 15
If your kid makes one of those homemade guitars out of a cigar box and rubber bands, don’t let him just play it once or twice and then throw it away. Make him practice on it, every day, for about three hours a day. Later, he’ll thank you.
Whether they live in an igloo or a grass shack or a mud hut, people around the world all want the same thing: a better house!
Sometimes I think I’d be better off dead. No, wait. not me, you.
Just because swans mate for life, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. First of all, if you’re a swan, you’re probably not going to find a swan that looks much better than the one you’ve got, so why not mate for life?
Cranky, this is for you:
What am I afraid of? I’ll tell you: a feather. That’s right, a feather. How could anyone be afraid of a feather, you say. That’s an honest question, and I’ll try to give an honest answer. First of all, did I mention it was a poison feather?
“If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mister Brave Man, I guess I am a coward.”
“It makes me mad when people say I turned and ran like a scared rabbit. Maybe it was like an angry rabbit, who was running to go fight in another fight, away from the first fight.”
Thank you for the website–and Jophiel, thanks for printing the one I couldn’t recall.
Seeing as I just watched Apollo 13 again last night, this one got a giggle:
Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let’s say you’re an astronaut on the moon and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon pieces, wham!, you just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he’s not Dracula, but you just say, “Think again, bat man.”
Ugh…as usual, I can’t remember exactly how this one goes and can’t seem to find it anywhere to quote, so please excuse the paraphrasing:
Somebody said insects were taking over the planet. I’m not worried about it. After all, it’d take at least a million ants to aim a gun at me, let alone pull the trigger.
To me, clowns aren’t funny. In fact, they’re kinda scary. I’ve wondered where this started, and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus and a clown killed my dad.
I hope I never do anything to bring shame on myself, my family or my other family.
If a kid ever asks you how Santa Claus can live forever, I think a good answer is that he drinks blood.
One day a beaver and a termite were walking down the road together. “I can eat through a tree with my teeth,” said the beaver. “That’s nothing,” said the termite, “I can burrow through a tree”. Then they heard a voice behind them. “You two think you’re so smart, but you’re nothing!” It was a bitter old drunk lady.
And these from children writing in the style of Jack Handy:
Lord, give me the strength to change the things I can, the grace to accept the things I cannot change, and a great big bag of money.
Democracy is a beautiful thing, except for that part about letting just any old yokel vote.
Often, when I am reading a good book, I stop and thank my teacher. That is, I used to, until she got an unlisted number.
Think of the biggest number you can. Now add five. Then, imagine if you had that many Twinkies. Wow, that’s five more than the biggest number you could come up with!
Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across a beautiful sunset, with a beautiful rose in his beak, and he’s carrying a beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you’re drunk.