“Was there, then, no strength in growing up? No solace in being an adult? No sanctuary in life? No fleshly citadel strong enough to withstand the scrabbling assault of midnights? Doubts flushed him. Ice cream lived again in his throat, stomach, spine and limbs; he was instantly cold as a wind out of December gone.” Growing UpChildhoodAdulthoodIce CreamSolaceMidnightsDecember Gone Book:Dandelion Wine Source: Dandelion Wine