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Quote by Michael Dault

“Played catcher, just like you. We had these dreams that took us far beyond Minor League ball. Reality set in when we faced actual Major League talent. That's when we realized what our hopes actually were—dreams. The Marine Corps became a life we knew we could succeed in. I missed playing ball, sure, but when I think back on it, you kids gave me a life far more satisfying than any dream. That's what I was always meant to be—a father and a coach. That's what made sense.”

Quote by Michael Dault

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The Sons of Summer

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Michael Dault

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“It just so happens that my coming of age coincided with the collapse of the USSR, the re-evaluation of social and public values, economic destruction, and horrific human impoverishment. All reference points were lost. Everything had collapsed and fallen into the abyss. Our parents had no idea how to keep themselves afloat, never mind how to instil the right messages in their children and set us off in the right direction. The poverty we found ourselves in depressed and frightened my still childish mind and, like the gravitational pull of a black hole, distorted my strict, true and correct bearings. People who have achieved success command respect and reverential awe, but one’s own inability to do the same subverts any sense of personal merit by triggering a spiral of self-recrimination.”

“When I Am Dead, My Dearest When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress-tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.”

“It was in the Cornish summer of his twelfth year that Peter began to notice just how different the worlds of children and grown-ups were. You could not exactly say that the parents never had fun. They went for swims - but never for longer than twenty minutes. They liked a game of volleyball, but only for half an hour or so. Occasionally they could be talked into hide-and-seek or lurky turkey or building a giant sand-castle, but those were special occasions. The fact was that all grown-ups, given half the chance, chose to sink into one of three activities on the beach: sitting around talking, reading newspapers and books, or snoozing. Their only exercise (if you could call it that) was long boring walks, and these were nothing more than excuses for more talking. On the beach, they often glanced at their watches and, long before anyone was hungry, began telling each other it was time to start thinking about lunch or supper. They invented errands for themselves - to the odd-job man who lived half a mile away, or to the garage in the village, or to the nearby town on shopping expeditions. They came back complaining about the holiday traffic, but of course they were the holiday traffic. These restless grown-ups made constant visits to the telephone box at the end of the lane to call their relatives, or their work, or their grown-up children. Peter noticed that most grown-ups could not begin their day happily until they had driven off to find a newspaper, the right newspaper. Others could not get through the day without cigarettes. Others had to have beer. Others could not get by without coffee. Some could not read a newspaper without smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee. Adults were always snapping their fingers and groaning because someone had returned from town and forgotten something; there was always one more thing needed, and promises were made to get it tomorrow - another folding chair, shampoo, garlic, sun-glasses, clothes pegs - as if the holiday could not be enjoyed, could not even begin, until all these useless items had been gathered up.”

“I hate to think I’ve got to grow up, and be Miss March, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as a China-aster! It’s bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boys’ games and work and manners! I can’t get over my disappointment in not being a boy; and it’s worse than ever now, for I’m dying to go and fight with Papa, and I can only stay at home and knit like a poky old woman.”