Milo had developed a comprehensive and unshakeable boredom with every aspect of his existence.
Not even the things that other children enjoyed could hold his attention for more than a moment.
He sat at his desk after school staring at nothing in particular and feeling nothing in particular.
Then the package appeared and something in him — some small and stubborn curiosity — made him open it.
The tollbooth inside looked flimsy and ridiculous and Milo assembled it mostly because he had nothing better to do.
But when he drove through it in his small toy car the boredom vanished as suddenly and completely as a light switching off.
The world on the other side was demanding and confusing and strange and Milo found he was completely and unexpectedly interested.
Milo was bored with life until a magic tollbooth appeared.

The opening chapters of The Phantom Tollbooth diagnose a condition that is more common than it might appear at first.
Milo's boredom is not laziness or ingratitude — it is the specific emptiness that comes from never having learned to wonder.
Nobody has taught him to look closely at things, to ask why, to follow a question wherever it might choose to lead.
As a result he moves through a world full of astonishing material without noticing any of it whatsoever.
The tollbooth functions as a kind of shock to the system — a sudden and undeniable demand for attention and engagement.
On the other side of it, Milo cannot remain passive because the world will not allow passivity and continue making sense.
He must engage, ask questions, make decisions, and take language seriously — or he will be completely and helplessly lost.
This is precisely what his ordinary life has never required of him, and the difference is immediately and profoundly felt.
Milo was bored with life until a magic tollbooth appeared.