He never believed in fate or providence, or the future being made by someone in the sky. Instead, at every instant, a trillion trillion possible futures; the pickiness of pure chance and physical laws seemed like freedom from the scheming of a gloomy god.

It is shaming sometimes how the body will not, or cannot, lie about emotions. Who, for decorum’s sake, has ever slowed his heart, or muted a blush?

Let the guilty bury the innocent, and let no one change the evidence

Daylight seemed then to be the physical manifestation of common sense.

What reader wants to be told what attitude to strike?

It was not generally realized that what children mostly wanted was to be left alone.

No one knew about the squirrel’s skull beneath Briony bed, but no one wanted to know.