"The oceans never stop. They know no beginning or end. The wind never finishes. Sometimes it disappears, but only to gather momentum from somewhere else, returning to fling itself at the island, to make a point which is lost on Tom. Existence here is on a scale of giants. Time is in the million of years; rocks which from a distance look like dice cast against the shore are boulders hundreds of feet wide, licked round by millennia, tumbled onto their sides so that layers become vertical stripes."
I don't want to spoil the end of this book, especially because it is so so beautifully written and touching -- I would not be able to do justice to the moral complexity of it, and especially, to the beautiful relationship described between Isabel and Lucy. As a mother to a daughter, I was weeping at the end of this beautiful story. I could not put this book down, and stayed awake late into the night to finish it. I found myself heartbroken and torn.
"There are still more days to travel in this life," Tom thinks. And everyone
"who makes the journey has been shaped by every day and every person along the way.
Scars are just another kind of memory."