"Your children are not your children, for they are the sons and the daughters of life's longing for itself. They come through you, but yet, are not from you. And though they are with you for a season, they belong not to you only.
You may give them your love, but not your thoughts,
for they have their own thoughts to discover.
You may house their bodies but not their souls.
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your diminishing dreams!
Your children are not your children,
for though you may strive to be like them,
but please, never seek to make them like you!
You though, you are the bows from which your children,
as living arrows are sent forth!
Let your bending then, in the archer's bow, be for their gladness alone."
And yes, I put an edit upon it, for some of it was true enough...
