p. 37 Inside was the leaden weight of boredom; outside was the sharp tang of wood smoke and the urgency of shortening days. You could smell the winter coming. You could see it in the transparency of the light and hear it in the harsh warning cries of the geese as they passed overhead. Most of all, you could feel it. During the day the sun was still hot, but as soon as it dipped down behind the trees the warmth dropped out of the air like a stone.
p. 179 On Sunday morning when he woke up he realized that far from having days and days to prepare for the chemistry exam he now had somewhat less than thirty hours. He skipped church and studied all day. He was good at cramming, even enjoyed it to a degree; there was a kind of masochistic pleasure to be found in concentrating so hard for so long. He took an hour off for supper and then worked till midnight. He got up at six, had breakfast, and started in again. By half past ten in the morning he'd finished. The entire chemistry textbook, a whole year's work, was now inside his head, and provided it didn't all fall out between now and the exam, he'd be fine.
