A God in Ruins

by Kate Atkinson

Sometimes Teddy wondered if everyone had done well out of the war except for those who had fought in it.

And, yes, dogs were family.

‘Patriotism,’ Sylvie said witheringly, ‘contains the word “rot” within it.

He loved Viola as only a parent can love a child, but it was hard work.

Best always to praise rather than criticize.

Mathematics,’ he said solemnly, as if it was a religion.)

Afterwards – because it turned out that there was to be an afterwards for Teddy – he resolved that he would try always to be kind. It was the best he could do. It was all that he could do. And it might be love, after all.

The Ancient Mariner was lucky – his albatross was already dead before it was hung round his neck.

Life was finite. Civilizations rose and fell and in the end everything was dust and sand. Nothing beside remained.

Did people really need so much choice that they could never get to the end of choosing?

The ‘eat’ part was easy. The praying and loving were harder.