More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
His hands had closed automatically into fists because he had always been a man who thought with them. Soon he would try to use them; she knew it, because it was easier to punch than think. Mr Petty had punched his way through life.
A voice on the other side of the heavy door said, ‘What sound does forgetfulness make?’ She hardly had to think. ‘It’s the sound of the wind in dead grasses on a hot summer’s day.’
Nanny Ogg was a one-woman masterclass, or rather mistressclass, in people. She treated perfect strangers as if she had known them for years, and somehow they acted as if she really had.
You’ve taken the first step.’ ‘There’s a second step?’ said Tiffany. ‘No; there’s another first step. Every step is a first step if it’s a step in the right direction.’
