At the End of Ocean Lane

I just finished reading The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman. It was a story that built up slowly then all of a sudden I was submerged. When it ended I couldn’t remember how to breathe. Then I sighed. The story really was like stepping into an ocean. With each step you get deeper and deeper and then there’s that sharp drop. But you’re not startled or afraid. It feels weird. I liked the strangeness.

Some of my favorite quotes:

“That’s the trouble with living things. Don’t last very long.”

“Nobody actually looks like what they really are on the inside. You don’t. I don’t. People are much more complicated than that. It’s true of everybody.”

“Different people remember things differently, and you’ll not get any two people to remember anything the same, whether they were there or not. You stand two of you lot next to each other, and you could be continents away for all it means anything.”

“You don’t pass or fail and being a person, dear.”

“Books were safer than other people anyway.”

“Grown-ups don’t look like grown-ups on the inside, either. Outside, they’re big and thoughtless and they always know what they’re doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. The truth is, there aren’t any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world.”

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My Copy of The Ocean at the End of the Lane

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