Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life-sized.
Notice, for example, that people who talk about "the joys of childhood" are always adults. Only an adult, utterly remote from the reality of childhood, could suppose it is time of joys.
As long as any adult thinks that he, like the parents and teachers of old, can become introspective, invoking his own youth to understand the youth before him, he is lost.
I knew enough about adults to know that if did tell them what had happened, I would not be believed. Adults rarely seemed to believe me when I told the truth anyway.
We underestimate children and the people who work with them. I swear - so often, I tell people I am a children's author, and it's like they want to pat me on the head: 'Aw, isn't that sweet.'
Often, adults don't give kids enough credit.
No one would look at an infant baby asleep, and say 'What a lazy baby!' We know sleeping is non-negotiable for a baby. But that notion is quickly abandoned.
