Inside every adult there's still a child that lingers. We're

The visionary Guy Laliberté, founder of Cirque du Soleil, once said: “Inside every adult there's still a child that lingers. We're happiness merchants — giving people the opportunity to dream like children.” These words, though born from the world of performance and spectacle, speak to something far deeper — the eternal truth that within every human heart dwells a child: curious, imaginative, and full of wonder. Laliberté reminds us that this child does not die as we age; it only hides beneath the layers of duty, fear, and cynicism that adulthood imposes. Yet when joy, beauty, or awe touches us again, the child within awakens, and for a moment, we remember who we truly are.

The meaning of this quote reaches beyond the realm of entertainment; it is a meditation on the nature of happiness and the human spirit. Laliberté, who rose from a humble street performer to create a global phenomenon of artistry and color, understood that true happiness is not the absence of struggle, but the presence of wonder. The “happiness merchants,” as he calls himself and his fellow artists, are those who rekindle that wonder — who remind us that life is more than a series of obligations. In their performances, they offer not escape, but remembrance — a return to the childlike joy that once made the world feel vast, magical, and full of possibility.

This idea has ancient roots. The poets of Greece spoke of mousiké — the art of harmonizing body, spirit, and imagination. They believed that through music, dance, and story, the human soul could return to its natural state of joy. In much the same way, Laliberté’s circus became a modern temple of delight, where the impossible seemed possible and the mundane was forgotten. In this, he touches a universal truth: the child within is not naïve; it is the purest part of the soul, unburdened by cynicism, still capable of faith and wonder. To reach it is not to regress — it is to rediscover what gives life its meaning.

Consider the story of Walt Disney, another dream-weaver who believed that “adults are only kids grown up.” In the midst of economic despair during the Great Depression, Disney gave the world Snow White and Mickey Mouse — creations born not of luxury, but of belief in joy. His work did not merely entertain; it restored hope. Like Laliberté, he understood that the heart’s deepest hunger is not for wealth or comfort, but for the renewal of imagination. Through their art, both men acted as merchants of happiness, reminding weary souls that joy, like fire, can be passed from one heart to another.

But Laliberté’s words also reveal a quiet challenge: the world often teaches us to silence the inner child. We are told to be practical, to measure, to control. Yet in doing so, we lose something essential — the freedom to dream. The child within us does not ask for perfection, only for play, for curiosity, for connection. It is the source of creativity, empathy, and laughter. To deny it is to live half a life. To nurture it is to live fully, with a heart still capable of wonder even in the midst of hardship.

The lesson, then, is to guard the child that lingers within you. Let it breathe. Let it create. Seek not always to be wise — for too much wisdom without joy turns bitter. Instead, balance your reason with reverence for the simple things: the color of dawn, the sound of laughter, the courage to imagine something new. As Laliberté teaches, happiness is not found in possessions or status, but in the renewal of imagination — the ability to dream, to play, and to see the world once more through innocent eyes.

Therefore, live as both adult and child — strong in responsibility, but soft in spirit. Be a “merchant of happiness” in your own way: through kindness, through creativity, through moments of beauty that awaken wonder in others. For though the world may harden around us, the eternal child within — that bright ember of imagination and joy — is what keeps the human soul alive. And when we give others the chance to dream, we do not merely entertain them; we remind them of their own lost light — and in doing so, we make the world a little more luminous.