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9 pages, Audiobook
First published August 22, 2019

“That distant stretch of sea where sky and water merge. It’s called the offing.”
“I was sixteen and free, and hungry. Hungry for food, as we all were – the shortage continued for many years – yet my appetite was for more than the merely edible.”
“To those blessed with the gift of living, it seemed as if the present moment was a precious empty vessel waiting to be filled with experience.”
“The history books should not entirely be believed: Allied victory did not taste sweet and the winters that followed would be as frosted and unforgiving as any. Because although the elements care little for the madness of men, even the white virginal snow would now appear impure to those who had seen the first footage of barbed wire and body pits.
Yet viewed through the eyes of the young the conflict was an abstraction, a memory once removed and already fading. It wasn’t our war. It wouldn’t ruin our lives before they had even started.”
“On the contrary, it had awakened within me a sense of adventure, a wanderlust to step beyond the end of the street where the flagstones finally gave themselves to the fields, and industrial Northern England stretched away beneath the first warm haze of a coming season of growth, to explore whatever it was that lay beyond this shimmering mirage that turned the horizon into an undulating ocean of blossoming greens.”
“It’s not the books that really matter anyway, Robert. Books are just paper, but they contain within them revolutions. You’ll find that most dictators barely read beyond their own grubby hagiographies. That’s where they’re going wrong: not enough poetry in their lives.”
“I don’t think we are continually improving, if that’s what you mean. We may learn lessons, but we don’t apply them. It’s always one step forward, two steps back. Then a leap sideways. Then diagonally. Do you see what I mean?”
“What lessons were learned? Build bigger bombs and better bombs, that’s all. Hitler still happened, and there’ll be another angry little man along in due course. I sometimes think that in many ways we’re completely screwed, all the time. I suppose it’s a collective state of insanity. It must be, to keep repeating the same patterns of death and violence.”
“Others bore the names of past cultures – of further Viking settlements established by raiding parties: Staxton, Flixton – the language of the land joining to create a narrative through shifting epochs and changing rulers. Yet for those who tilled and turned the soil, and harvested the land’s bounty at summer’s end, here life had stayed relatively constant for centuries, with existence spare and closely tied to the changing seasons.”