The Clockmaker's Daughter

by Kate Morton

Human beings are curators. Each polishes his or her own favored memories, arranging them in order to create a narrative that pleases.

“And just like a person, its face, whether plain or pretty, is but a mask for the intricate mechanism it conceals.”

Human beings had ever been captivated by the great burning sphere in the heavens, he said, “for not only does it give us warmth, but also light. The foremost craving of our souls.”

Nothing in life had had the power to frighten him, because he knew how much I loved him.”

It is a strange thing, though, the human instinct for survival.

There is a wound that never heals in the heart of an abandoned child.

one must forgive oneself the past or else the journey into the future becomes unbearable.”

the truth depends on who it is that’s telling the story.”