For ridding oneself of faith is like boiling seawater to retrieve the salt-something is gained but something is lost. Though her friends-Merlin, Wan-Si, et al.-clapped her on the back and congratulated her for exorcising those fervid dreams of perdition and redemption, Clara quietly mourned the warmer touch she had waited for these nineteen years, the all-enveloping bear hug of the Savior, the One who was Alpha and Omega, both the beginning and the end; the man who was meant to take her away from all this, from the listless reality of life in a ground-floor flat in Lambeth. What now for Clara?
( Zadie Smith )
[ White Teeth ]
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