to the boy who has sent me back into the habit of literature

the following are some sections from a book i've been reading recently. i've read the majority of the books in my shelf over the years so i'm really going through the dregs now. although this one has pleasantly surprised me. it has my mother's first and maiden name written inside the front cover and was published in 1964.

'Lucy Crown' by Irwin Shaw. (blurb: on our shield there are three great words - Suicide, Failure and Adultery, and i challenge any red-blooded American family to do better. Oliver was the failure, with his drinking and his broken marriage. his father was the Suicide. as for Adultery - Lucy was the one who ha yearned for love, and she it was who turned in desperation to a thirteen-year-old boy, a kid only just discovering himself..)

'..the owner decided that she reminded him of the two or three women in his life who, he had known from the beginning, were too good for him. the women had known it, too, and for that reason the owner rememembered them romantically and still sent flowers on her birthday to the last of them, who had later married a colonel in the French Air Force. she was rare combination, the owner thought; she has sweetness and she is confident of herself at the same time. why couldn't she have walked in here ten years ago?' - p9

'when we look back into the past, we recognise a moment in time which was decisive, at which the pattern of our lives changed, a moment at which we moved irrevocably off in a new direction. the change may be a result of planning or accident; we may leave happiness or ruins behind us and advance to a different happiness or more through ruin; but there is no going back. the moment may be just that, a second in which a wheel is turned, a look exchanged, a sentence spoken - or it may be a long afternoon, a week, a season, during which the issue is in doubt, in which the wheel is turned a hundred times, the small, accumulatin accidents permitted to happen. for Lucy Crown it was a Summer.' - p13

''it was glorious,' Jeff said solemnly. 'it was heartbreaking..it was like an earthquake.'' - p135

''goodbye,' she said, forcing him to shake her hand.
'walk away with a nice springy step now. make sure you study hard and get beautiful high marks this year at school.'
Jeff tried to speak but couldn't. he tore his hand away from her and wheeled and plunged out of sight around the corner of the cottage. watching him, Lucy felt like weeping. not because he was going and she would never see him again, or because for a little while he had been dear to her and it was all spoiled now. she felt like weeping because he was so clumsy and she knew how it was hurting him and it was her fault.' - p137

''two weeks ago you wouldn't believe a word i said.'
'because you were lying,' said Oliver.
'how do you know that i won't lie again?' Lucy asked. Oliver sat down, the lines of fatigue bitten into his face, his head nodding over his chest.
'don't torture me, Lucy,' he said.
'answer me,' she said harshly. 'how do you know i won't lie to you again?'
'because i HAVE to believe you,' Oliver said, his voice almost inaudible. 'i sat in the house thinking of what it would be like to try to live the rest of my life without you..and i couldn't stand it,' he said simply. 'i just couldn't do it.'
'even though i'm a liar and you hate liars,' Lucy said, standing over him. 'even though i disgust you?'
'i'm trying to forget i ever said those things,' Oliver said.
'i can't forget it,' Lucy said. 'you were right. it WAS disgusting. i disgusted myself.'
Oliver raised his head and looked at her. 'but you'll change now?'
'change?' said Lucy. 'yes, i will. but perhaps not in the way you think.'
'Lucy,' Oliver asked, and that was the first time he'd ever asked the question, 'don't you love me?'
Lucy stared at him thoughtfully. 'yes,' she said slowly, 'yes, i do. i've been thinking myself these last ten days, about you. about how much i owe you. how much i need you. how much you've done for me. how solid you've been. how secure.'
'Lucy,' Oliver said, 'it's so good to hear that.'
'wait,' said Lucy. 'not so fast. you've done something else too, Oliver. you've educated me. you've converted me.'
'converted you?' Oliver asked, puzzled. 'what do you mean?'
'you've always talked to me about your principles,' said Lucy. 'about the truth. about seeing things clearly, about not fooling yourself. you even wrote a long letter to Tony about it this Summer, when you were worries about his eyes.'
'yes, i did,' said Oliver. 'what about it?'
'i am now your disciple,' said Lucy. 'and i'm the worst kind of disciple. because the first person i've used my faith on is you.'
'what are you talking about?' Oliver asked.
'lies offend you, don't they, Oliver?' Lucy was speaking calmly, reasonably, as though she was explaining a mathematical equation.
'yes, they do,' said Oliver, but he sounded wary and defensive.
'deception of any kind, by anyone,' Lucy went on, in the classroom tone, 'is sickening to you, isn't it?'
'yes, it is,' said Oliver.
'you believe that, don't you?' Lucy asked.
'yes.'
'and you're lying,' said Lucy.
Oliver's head jerked back angrily. 'don't say that.'
'you're lying to me,' said Lucy. 'but most of all to yourself.'
'i don't lie,' Oliver said tightly. - p138