Sweetes' li'l feller, Everybody knows; Dunno what to call him, But he's mighty lak'a rose; Lookin' at his mammy Wid eyes so shiny blue Mek' you think that Heav'n Is comin' clost ter you.

John did not remember very clearly the first time she had gone, to have Roy; folks said that he had cried and carried on the whole time his mother was away; he remembered only enough to be afraid every time her belly began to swell, knowing that each time the swelling began it would not end until she was taken from him, to come back with a stranger.

The human baby, the human being, is a mosaic of animal and angel.

They are so small and so helpless that they contribute vastly to a comforting glow in the ego of the grown-up.

There are one hundred and fifty-two distinctly different ways of holding a baby-and all are right.

Tender are a mother's dreams, But her babe's not what he seems. See him plotting in his mind To grow up some other kind.

Every baby born into the world is a finer one than the last.

Infancy conforms to nobody; all conform to it.

Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo...

There lay the little miracle among the pillows: so well formed, so encompassed, as it were, with the harmony of sweet proportions, with little hands that even then, though so much tinier, were beautiful as now; with wide-open eyes blue as the sky and brighter than the sunshine-and almost in that very second he felt himself captured and held fast.