What was wonderful about childhood is that anything in it was a wonder.
It was not merely a world full of miracles; it was a miraculous world.
What gives me this shock is almost anything I really recall;
not the things I should think most worth recalling.
This is where it differs from the other great thrill of the past,
all that is connected with first love and the romantic passion;
for that, though equally poignant, comes always to a point;
and is narrow like a rapier piercing the heart, whereas the other
was more like a hundred windows opened on all sides of the head.
-Autobiography (1936)
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