I flung my tongue round like a cat-o'-nine-tails so that my pleasant peaceful infant room became little less than a German concentration camp as I took out on the children what life should have got.
The truth is that I am enslaved... in one vast love affair with 70 children.
As the blackness of the night recedes so does the nadir of yesterday. The child I am forgets so quickly.
Children have two visions, the inner and the outer. Of the two the inner vision is brighter.
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