Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Schoolroom. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Schoolroom Quotes And Sayings by 97 Authors including J.k. Rowling,Mokokoma Mokhonoana,Gary D. Schmidt,Jose Saramago,Norman Maccaig for you to enjoy and share.
STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!
School is a factory where the raw material called student is turned into a product called employee.
Don't look so surprised. You didn't think I'd spent my whole life behind this desk, did you?
And I suddenly realized that, well, I guess I had. Weren't all teachers born behind their desks, fully grown, with a red pen in their hand and ready to grade?
It is an archive ... You probably get rooms like this in even the most modern of offices, like a rusty anchor chained to the past and with no purpose in life.
When I was a teacher, teachers would come into my classroom and admire my desk on which lay nothing whatever, whereas theirs were heaped with papers and books.
Quite soon my office was a jumble of broken bits of rocks, and needles, and old monographs, all coated in fine, limy dust. I still work in an identical office today. Tidy people's eyes go all peculiar when they come into it. I have a special small padded seat for them to collapse into.
The humble little school library ... was a ramp to everything
in the world and beyond, everything that could be dreamed and
imagined, everything that could be known, everything that could be hoped.
In my library/study/barn, there is a Ping-Pong table on which I can pile working books and spread maps.
I write in an old-school paneled study in the middle of a large farmhouse in rural Iowa. I have pine floors, a big cherry desk, and a small window. The room is cluttered with papers and books and gifts from friends.
A school library is like the Bat Cave: it's a safe fortress in a chaotic world, a source of knowledge and the lair of a superhero.
True, the superhero is more likely to be wearing a cardigan than a batsuit, but still...
That would make it the fifth time since I'd started working at the university that I'd thrown someone out of one of those rooms for inappropriate behavior. And they say a library is a boring place to work.
room below and a bedchamber above.
I suddenly missed the curious shelving patterns of my room, those old planks from the barn groaning under the weight of the notebooks. Shelving is an intimate thing, like the fingerprint of a room.
I need to use the little praetors' room.
The library, and step on it!
THE REPTILE ROOM
The workbench was filled with glassware, books, syringes, tattooing machine parts, plastic bags, tools. Dozens of books on toxins and thousands of downloaded Internet documents,
One works in one's laboratory - one's chaotic laboratory - with students and colleagues, doing what one most wants to do - then all this happens! It is overwhelming.
Teachers are students inside out.
The Tinkering School. More of a lab than a school, this summer program, created by computer scientist Gever Tulley, lets children from seven to seventeen play around with interesting stuff and build cool things.
HARRY AND GINNY POTTER'S HOUSE, ALBUS'S ROOM ALBUS
Anything that was perverse and silly would be Kids in the Hall.
My room for books and study or for sitting and thinking about nothing in particular to see what would happen was at the end of a hall.
When I was a student I spent a lot of time in the library. That's where the books and smart girls were.
romping in pedagogically forbidden territory. They
That was like my safe place with great teachers where everyone could let down their guard and not feel judged. As soon as we walk outside, it was like, 'Look at these weird drama club kids.' But we all had our own agreement that we were cool in our own way.
Sitting in the empty classroom and listening to the faraway sounds of noisy students in the cafeteria, I was reminded of feeling sick in class and being sent to the school nurse. The nurse's office had that same muffled sense of distance, like a satellite to the loud planet that was the school.
Library. It's where we lock up all those books before they start giving kids ideas," I said solemnly. "Very dangerous place to be.
I believe everybody should have a room where they get rid of all their releases. So my room was a stage.
First day of school, make sure that you know your locker combination.
I have a little kitchen office at home, where I do all my kids' stuff.
Life is just a schoolroom with a glorious opportunity to prepare us for eternity.
I am really chained to my computer these days so I work in my bedroom, which is a room I have worked in for years and years. It is just as much an office as a bedroom, and during the day, my bed is rather like an extension of my desk.
When I walk into an apartment with books on the shelves, books on the bedside tables, books on the floor, and books on the toilet tank, then I know what I would see if I opened the door that says Private - grownups keep out: a children sprawled on the bed, reading.
What else was there beside books and work?
A desk is a dangerous place from which to view the world.
My desk was a present from Margaret Atwood.
After Zen and the Art of Uterus Maintenance
sold its first million, she said I needed a place
to write, other than the local bus-shelter.
No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks, when the teacher rings the bell, drop your books and run like hell
Now, in the Kingdom of School, to be asked into another child's room is like being asked inside their heart.
A storm of yellow notepads, broken pencils, papers, and books littered the tables and floor of the room, along with a collection of empty beer cans. It looked as if a party of wild librarians had just cleared out.
I work in a giant building:
forty floors and forty cubicles
per wing, four wings per floor,
one person and one personal
computer per cubicle, a labyrinth
in which everyone's goal is to stay lost.
I have three desks. One empty for paperwork, one for the internet and email, and one for the writing computer.
A place to keep all your secrets
A bunch of chairs lined up in front of a podium equals school.
A workplace desk is like a woman's handbag; it's private and a necessity.
Two closets wait to be filled with shoes or condoms or failed exams or whatever else college kids fill empty spaces with. Broken dreams, maybe.
You know what a cubicle basically says? It basically says, like, 'You know what? We don't think you're smart enough for an office, but we don't want you to look at anybody.
Every day I lugged my backpack through the halls, waiting for the final bell. Then I'd race home and hole up in my room, playing the drums and the piano, composing music.
In life, the classroom is everywhere. The exam comes at the very end.
For years I wrote in my basement. More recently I graduated to one floor above, an office with all my books and music and - ta da! - a window.
Schools vast factories for the manufacture of robots.
My dream, I remember, when I went to boarding school, was to have a study all my own, a little nook someplace where nobody could get at me - nobody, like the football coach.
There's a bomb under the school.
Nearly half full, seating about two hundred students. The room was
Computers in classrooms are the filmstrips of the 1990s.
A student of life considers the world a classroom.
I am a laptop boy. People say: 'Where's your studio?' I say: 'It's in my laptop, in my rucksack.'
I'm an organizational fanatic. I created a locker room that the children pass through when they come in the house. Each child has a personal locker, and every day when they arrive home from school, they dump their stuff there-backpacks, shoes, soccer uniforms. I organize them by season.
I got thrown out of school several weeks in my senior year being caught in the girls' dorm. This was 1954, friends. The girls' dorm was off limits. Even to girls, I think.
We don't really have a staff room. We do have one, but ... it's freezing in there. So at lunch times we sit down there with the children. We're always around, so the relationships are very different. You don't often hear raised voices here.
It was also, however, a favorite place for novices to stand and wait for innocent students to slip up by talking too loudly between classes.
No novice has ever been created that could keep Gina quiet, however.
When I was six, the Korean War broke out, and all the classrooms were destroyed by war. We studied under the trees or in whatever buildings were left.
Life is a classroom.
Room is the wrong word. It's not a room - it's a mission statement.
Appealing workplaces are to be avoided. One wants a room with no view, so imagination can meet memory in the dark.
I began by working in a study in an attic, but for many years, I've used a small room in a library. What matters to me isn't decor or comfort but only quiet. I need to hear the rhythms of phrases, the music of sentences. Any place that allows me to do that is good enough.
From my locker I collected my sneakers, jock strap, and gym pants and then turned away, leaving the door ajar for the first time, forlornly open and abandoned, the locker unlocked. This was more final than the moment when the Headmaster handed me my diploma. My schooling was over now.
I know I never work in whatever gets called an office, e.g., a school office I use only for meeting students and storing books I know I'm not going to read anytime soon.
I had collages in my bedroom when I was a teenager.
My study is a converted garage which is largely lined with bookshelves and cardboard boxes filled with manuscripts of my film scripts, plays and books.
It's like I'm in a closet in a college dorm room.
You look good there."
"Where?"
"In my bed."
Duuuuude.
Zart, Lindy (2014-11-20). Roomies (p. 110). Kindle Edition.
My desk is an antique with bookshelves built into the side. I've turned the drawer over to hold a keyboard. We live in a 100-year-old house, and I work in an apartment above the carriage house.
It was also a room full of books and made of books. There was no actual furniture; this is to say, the desk and chairs were shaped out of books. It looked as though many of them were frequently referred to, because they lay open with other books used as bookmarks.
School was a strange place where they tried to make you into something.
Grosvenor and Burke suggest that continually, though silently, a school building tells students who they are and how they should think about the world. It can help to manufacture rote obedience or independent activity; it can create high self-confidence or low self-esteem.
I just couldn't take school seriously: I had this guitar neck with four frets which I kept hidden under the desk. It had strings on it so I would practice my chord shapes under the desk and that's about all I did at school.
Welcome to my dungeon. It's not much," Linc said as he cleaned off a chair for her. "But ... it's
not much." He dumped the files and books on the floor.
"The nice thing about starting at the bottom is, you can't get any lower."
"If I'm a good boy, I'll get my own stapler
School-boy. The spectators thou regardest as on work-days they regard each other. For thee, then, it may be well to wish thyself behind a desk, over ruled ledgers, collecting tolls, and picking out reversions. Thou feelest not the co-operating, co-inspiring
Sitting at the single table in a disreputable pile of lumber mistakenly called a building.
The studio is an extension of the sandbox and the kindergarten playroom. It has a dynamic unlike any office or factory. It's a room at the service of a dreamer on her way to becoming a master.
A studio is a good place to smoke your pipe.
Feeling pummeled by the outside pounding of tests and standards, a teacher can easily hide and simply turn to the immediacy of the classroom. It is not surprising that many teachers burrow in their rooms with all that they know about their students. There is no place to take the information.
You go to school every morning and sit there for
I walk into a large white room. It's a dance studio in midtown Manhattan. The room is clean, virtually spotless if you don't count the thousands of skid marks and footprints left there by dancers rehearsing. Other than the mirrors, the boom box, the skid marks, and me, the room is empty.
I don't like that sort of school ... where the bright childish imagination is utterly discouraged ... where I have never seen among the pupils, whether boys or girls, anything but little parrots and small calculating machines.
School is a hospital where men recover from ignorance.
Life is beating against the school windows. You must quickly open the doors and go out to learn that no door must be locked against you.
The larger office, the corner space, the extra window are the teddy bears and tricycles of adult office life
First Day at Harvard [10w]
Smartest kid in the room
walks into room of competitors.
I hate desks; they make me feel like a child doing homework.
The school is a mother
I need to write in a small room - the smaller the better. I can't write in a big room where someone might sneak up behind my back.
My own experience is that a certain kind of genius among students is best brought out in bed.
Our fate is determined in rooms that must be easy to clean
the waiting room. It was half full
I'd spent seven years in an all-boys school: 2,000 adolescents in the same khaki uniforms striking hunting poses, stalking lunchrooms, classrooms, changing rooms, looking for boys who didn't fit in.
Why to be in this room?
If I was smart... I won't stay in this room and I will move in a room where people are more clever than me... but If it's easy as possibility... I want without a trouble to finish school.
In this room I grew.
So many lessons I learned
Opportunities I gained
Criticisms I gracefully endured
In this room, I made my mark.
Our garage was basically science fair central.