The books we loved as children always seem to hold a special place in our hearts, and though we may not reread them often as adults, they never fail to conjure warm and fuzzy memories. In fact, not rereading them is frequently a good idea. “Moments I had treasured from the book down through the decades now seemed like cheap gags… Where as a child I had seen mystery and wonder, as an adult I saw smug, self-satisfied intellectual humor.”