play
Daddy made for us himself elaborate kites that needed to be taken miles out of town to a pasture long enough (and my father was not afraid of horses and cows watching) for him to run with and get up on a long cord to which my mother held the spindle, and then we children were given it to hold, tugging like something alive at our hands. They were beautiful, sound, shapely box kites, smelling delicately of office glue for their entire short lives.
One Writer’s Beginnings (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1984), 4–5.
I know when I was a kid we used to throw the football out of a first-floor window. We never went to a play space; the play space began immediately. Play was inspired, not organized.
Louis I. Kahn: Conversations with Students, 2nd ed. (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1998), 23.
Kids don’t plan to play. They don’t go: “Barbie, Ken, you ready to play? It’s gonna be a three-act.”
“Lynda Barry Will Make You Believe In Yourself,” by Dan Kois, The New York Times Magazine, October 27, 2011.