“a little bird moves a mountain of sand one grain at a time it picks up one grain every million years and when the mountain has been moved the bird puts it all back again and that's how long eternity is and that's a very long time to be dead”

“He falls asleep quickly. I lie awake and listen to lights being switched off all over the town. Whisperedgoodnights. The drowsy creak of bedsprings.I find Adam’s hand and hold it tight.I’m glad that night porters and nurses and long-distance lorry drivers exist. It comforts me to know thatin other countries with different time zones, women are washing clothes in rivers and children are filing toschool. Somewhere in the world right now, a boy is listening to the merry chink of a goat’s bell as hewalks up a mountain. I’m very glad about that.”

“What must it be, then, to bear the manifold tortures of hell forever? Forever! For all eternity! Not for a year or an age but forever. Try to imagine the awful meaning of this. You have often seen the sand on the seashore. How fine are its tiny grains! And how many of those tiny grains go to make up the small handful which a child grasps in its play. Now imagine a mountain of that sand, a million miles high, reaching from the earth to the farthest heavens, and a million miles broad, extending to remotest space, and a million miles in thickness, and imagine such an enormous mass of countless particles of sand multiplied as often as there are leaves in the forest, drops of water in the mighty ocean, feathers on birds, scales on fish, hairs on animals, atoms in the vast expanse of air. And imagine that at the end of every million years a little bird came to that mountain and carried away in its beak a tiny grain of that sand. How many millions upon millions of centuries would pass before that bird had carried away even a square foot of that mountain, how many eons upon eons of ages before it had carried away all. Yet at the end of that immense stretch time not even one instant of eternity could be said to have ended. At the end of all those billions and trillions of years eternity would have scarcely begun. And if that mountain rose again after it had been carried all away again grain by grain, and if it so rose and sank as many times as there are stars in the sky, atoms in the air, drops of water in the sea, leaves on the trees, feathers upon birds, scales upon fish, hairs upon animals – at the end of all those innumerable risings and sinkings of that immeasurably vast mountain not even one single instant of eternity could be said to have ended; even then, at the end of such a period, after that eon of time, the mere thought of which makes our very brain reel dizzily, eternity would have scarcely begun.”

“Adam strokes my head, my face, he kisses my tears. We are blessed.Let them all go.The sound of a bird flying low across the garden. Then nothing. Nothing. A cloud passes. Nothing again. Light falls through the window, falls onto me, into me. Moments.All gathering towards this one.”

“Just remember: If one bird carried every grain of sand, grain by grain, across the ocean, by the time he got them all on the other side, that would only be the beginning of eternity. ”

“Should we say something?’ Cal asks.‘Goodbye, bird?’ I suggest.He nods. ‘Goodbye, bird. Thank you for coming. And good luck.”

“How late is it? How long have we been sitting here? I look at my watch – three thirty and theday is almost ending. It’s October. All those kids recently returned to classrooms with new bags andpencil cases will be looking forward to half term already. How quickly it goes. Halloween soon, thenfirework night. Christmas. Spring. Easter. Then there’s my birthday in May. I’ll be seventeen.How long can I stave it off? I don’t know. All I know is that I have two choices – stay wrapped inblankets and get on with dying, or get the list back together and get on with living.”