"We're all like children. We may think we grow up, but to me, being grown up is death, stopping thinking, trying to find out things, going on learning"
About this Quote
Wesley slips a quiet provocation into a seemingly gentle metaphor: adulthood, as commonly performed, is less a destination than a surrender. By insisting "we're all like children", she isn’t romanticizing innocence; she’s puncturing the social fantasy that maturity equals certainty. The line turns on a reversal. We expect growing up to mean competence, closure, answers. Wesley frames it as a kind of living burial: "being grown up is death" not because bodies fail, but because curiosity does.
The syntax does a lot of the work. "Stopping thinking" lands with blunt finality, then she stacks active verbs that refuse to sit still: "trying", "find out", "going on", "learning". It’s propulsion versus paralysis, a life defined by verbs rather than labels. The subtext is moral as much as psychological: the grown-up pose can become a defense against discomfort, a way to avoid being wrong, naive, or in need of revision. Children ask questions because they must; adults stop asking because they can pretend they don’t have to.
Context matters. Wesley didn’t publish her first adult novel until her seventies, after a lifetime of experience and constraint. That late-blooming career makes her mistrust of "grown-up" finality feel earned rather than cute. She’s arguing for a form of vitality that isn’t youthfulness, but permeability: the willingness to stay unfinished. In a culture that prizes "having it together", Wesley offers a harsher measure of aliveness - not stability, but sustained curiosity.
The syntax does a lot of the work. "Stopping thinking" lands with blunt finality, then she stacks active verbs that refuse to sit still: "trying", "find out", "going on", "learning". It’s propulsion versus paralysis, a life defined by verbs rather than labels. The subtext is moral as much as psychological: the grown-up pose can become a defense against discomfort, a way to avoid being wrong, naive, or in need of revision. Children ask questions because they must; adults stop asking because they can pretend they don’t have to.
Context matters. Wesley didn’t publish her first adult novel until her seventies, after a lifetime of experience and constraint. That late-blooming career makes her mistrust of "grown-up" finality feel earned rather than cute. She’s arguing for a form of vitality that isn’t youthfulness, but permeability: the willingness to stay unfinished. In a culture that prizes "having it together", Wesley offers a harsher measure of aliveness - not stability, but sustained curiosity.
Quote Details
| Topic | Learning |
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