The Bone Clocks

by David Mitchell

his voice is like the wind swerving through a weird day.

or perhaps this will just be one of life’s dangly plot lines that one never revisits.

while the wealthy are no more likely to be born stupid than the poor, a wealthy upbringing compounds stupidity while a hardscrabble childhood dilutes it, if only for Darwinian reasons. This is why the elite need a prophylactic barrier of shitty state schools, to prevent clever kids from working-class post codes ousting them from the Enclave of Privilege.

When a parent dies, a filing cabinet full of all the fascinating stuff also ceases to exist. I never imagined how hungry I’d be one day to look inside it.

Enough. I had two years of love from a kind woman.

Will I die without ever reading Ulysses to the end?