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Quote by Hilary McKay

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The Skylarks’ War

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Author

Hilary McKay
Hilary McKay

Hilary McKay is a renowned British children's writer, born on June 12, 1959. Her works are known for their delicate emotional portrayal and rich imagination, primarily focusing on children's literature. more

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“Human beings are incredibly slow, Cosmic Ordering is incredibly fast!”

“I used to roll my eyes at looking back at the past. Digging into my childhood for answers about my present patterns, blaming my parents or others for how I turned out - it seemed like a convenient rationalization, a bunch of psychobabble meant to excuse me from responsibility. But I've learned it's not at all about blaming. It's being willing to look at it all with clear eyes - to have compassion for the reasons people fell short but also to admit that they did. This was the hardest part: to admit that parts of my childhood were not okay. To stop protecting people. It is hard to type this even now, because I can hear voices telling me to stop playing the victim, that it wasn't all that bad. But I know that acknowledging the truth is actually an act of maturity and autonomy - it is, ironically, how we relieve ourselves from the victim role. Because once we are operating in reality, we can begin to take responsibility for what's ours, and stop taking responsibility for what never was. Denying works for only so long; eventually that shit will come out, and it will be ugly.”

“Natasha and I used to go for walks in the orchard, and beyond that, there was a vast dank forest, where we once got lost… Unforgettable, golden days! Life was just beginning to assert itself, mysteriously and alluringly – and it was a sweet experience. It seemed then that behind every bush, every tree, some mysterious and unknowable being lurked; the fairy-tale world merged into the real one, and when the evening mist thickened in the deep valleys and its grey, sinuous wisps reached out towards the brambles clinging to the rocky ridges of our great gorge, Natasha and I would stand hand in hand on the edge, peering with bated breath into the depths, expecting at any moment to see someone emerge or call out to us from the mist at the bottom and turn our nursery stories into manifest reality.”

“Somehow she'd labeled those days a humiliation. She'd based her choices--her giant house, her daughters' schools, her constant attention to family life--on erecting a wall between her grim childhood and her bright future. But she was beginning to see that the camaraderie with her brother and sister, the yummy microwaved dinners, the way they'd crowd around the small TV to watch Family Feud, yelling out answers--in some ways, those days had been wonderful. She promised herself now: it will be okay.”