“She’s a grown-up, isn’t she? Grown-ups and monsters aren’t scared of things?”

“Oh, monsters are scared,” said Lettie. “That’s why they’re monsters. And as for grown-ups…” She stopped talking, rubbed her freckled nose with a finger. Then, “I’m going to tell you something important. Grown-ups don’t look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside they’re big and thoughtless and they always know what they’re doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. The truth is, there aren’t any grown-ups. Not on, in the whole wide word.”

…

I thought about adults. I wondered if that was true: if they were all really children wrapped in adult bodies, like children’s books hidden in the middle of dull, long adult book, the kind with no pictures or conversations.

Not sure why this passage struck me but it did and has me thinking about grown-ups and how we grow up and we’re the same but different.