Maya Eshed

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John Steinbeck
“When a child first catches adults out -- when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not always have divine intelligence, that their judgments are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just -- his world falls into panic desolation. The gods are fallen and all safety gone. And there is one sure thing about the fall of gods: they do not fall a little; they crash and shatter or sink deeply into green muck. It is a tedious job to build them up again; they never quite shine. And the child's world is never quite whole again. It is an aching kind of growing.”
John Steinbeck, East of Eden

J.M. Barrie
“You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to grow up. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than the other girls.”
J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Stephen Chbosky
“I walked over to the hill where we used to go and sled. There were a lot of little kids there. I watched them flying. Doing jumps and having races. And I thought that all those little kids are going to grow up someday. And all of those little kids are going to do the things that we do. And they will all kiss someone someday. But for now, sledding is enough. I think it would be great if sledding were always enough, but it isn't.”
Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Mitch Albom
“Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them - a mother's approval, a father's nod - are covered by moments of their own accomplishments. It is not until much later, as the skin sags and the heart weakens, that children understand; their stories, and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones, beneath the waters of their lives.”
Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven

Maya Angelou
“I am convinced that most people do not grow up...We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry accumulation of years in our bodies, and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are innocent and shy as magnolias.”
Maya Angelou, Letter to My Daughter

year in books
Emily K...
990 books | 108 friends

Liam
662 books | 25 friends

Daniel ...
5 books | 1 friend

Kailyn
287 books | 124 friends

Gladis ...
173 books | 14 friends

Morgan ...
10 books | 34 friends

Lilach ...
0 books | 25 friends

Noam We...
192 books | 20 friends

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