“The Little Boy and the Old ManSaid the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."Said the old man, "I do that too."The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."I do that too," laughed the little old man.Said the little boy, "I often cry."The old man nodded, "So do I."But worst of all," said the boy, "it seemsGrown-ups don't pay attention to me."And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.I know what you mean," said the little old man.”

“And after a long time the boy came back again. "I am sorry, Boy," said the tree, "but I have nothing left to give you- My apples are gone." "My teeth are too weak for apples," said the boy. "My branches are gone," said the tree. "You cannot swing on them-" "I am too old to swing on branches," said the boy. "My trunk is gone," said the tree. "You cannot climb-" "I am too tired to climb," said the boy. "I am sorry," sighed the tree. "I wish that I could give you something... but I have nothing left. I am an old stump. I am sorry...""I don't need very much now," said the boy, "just a quiet pleace to sit and rest. I am very tired." "Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "well, an old stump is a good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest."And the boy did.And the tree was happy.”

“Hollering at the top of his voice, a little boy walks by a cranky old man. "Boy, why are you a hollering as I walk by?" The little boy replies, "Old man, why are you walking by when I am a hollering.”

“Once there was a tree, and she loved a little boy.”

“The old-fashioned bravado started pissing me off. I pierced my lips together as my nostrils flared. Over 100 years old and boys will still be boys. I hoped for a little bit more maturity.”

“I used to be a little boySo old in my shoesAnd what i choose is my choiceWhat's a boy supposed to do?The killer in me is the killer in youMy loveI send this smile over to you”

“There is a little boy inside the man who is my brother... Oh, how I hated that little boy. And how I love him too.”