We always have a choice. All of us.
He carries that other shadow, which is cast inward.
Everything’s ruined. Nothing can ever be put right.” Tom rested a hand on hers. “We’ve put things right as well as we can. That’s all we can do. We have to live with things the way they are now.
He looked at the picture of his mother in the locket. Perhaps each of his parents loved him, however brokenly. He felt a sudden urge of anger at his father’s almost casual assumption of the right to separate him from his mother: so sincere, yet so destructive.
But if he doesn’t think about it too hard, he knows who he is and what he’s for. He just has to keep the light burning. Nothing more.
Even Reverend Norkells urged her to spend less time in the stony darkness of the church and to “look for Christ in the life around her.
The only thing we can do is love that little girl as much as she deserves. And never, never hurt her!
Es como si hubiera toda una galaxia esperando a que la descubras. Y yo quiero descubrir la tuya.
All night, far above him the light stood guard, slicing the darkness like a sword.
The northern side of the island is a sheer granite cliff which sets its jaw stiffly against the ocean below.
Two opposing physical forces, they create an inexplicable reaction overpowered by a third, stronger force – the knowledge of having deprived his wife of a child.
We can’t rightly ever talk about the future, if you think about it. We can only talk about what we imagine or wish for. It’s not the same thing.
There’s nothing you can do,” her father had said. “Once a horse bolts, you can only say your prayers and hang on for all you’re worth. Can’t stop an animal that’s caught in a blind terror.
But I want to!” An idea came to Isabel.
But it’s not always plain sailing, even when you’ve found the right girl. You’ve got to be in it for the long haul. You never know what’s going to happen: you sign up for whatever comes along. There’s no backing out.
With the composure that had first drawn Septimus to her mother Hanna stood straight and very still. “If that’s how you want it to be, dad, that’s how it will be!
Isabel’s belly quickened at the sight of the baby – her arms knew instinctively how to hold the child and calm her, soothe her. As she scooped warm water over the infant, she registered the freshness of her skin, taunt and soft and without a wrinkle.
He was still taking stock of this girl and her uncanny ability to tip him a fraction off balance.
There was something mysterious about him – as though, behind his smile, he was still far away. She wanted to get to the heart of him.
The wind had kept up its sullen howl. The late-afternoon sun continued to shine in through the window, laying a blanket of bright gold over the woman and her almost-baby. The old clock on the kitchen wall still clicked its minutes with fussy punctuality. A life had come and gone and nature had not paused a second for it. The machine of time and space grinds on, and people are fed through it like grist through the mill.