The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

Excerpts from the book

It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that it purloined.

Oddly, neglect seemed to have resulted in an accidental release of the spirit.

Nothing much mattered. And the less it mattered, the less it mattered.

It's true that things can change in a day. That a few dozen hours can affect the outcome of whole lifetimes.

It really began in the days when the Love Laws were made. The laws that lay down who should be loved, and how. And how much.

Choosing between her husband's name and her father's name didn't give a woman much of choice.

Ammu said that human beings were creatures of habit, and it was amazing the kind of things they could get used to.

Our dreams have been doctored. We belong nowhere. We sail unanchored on troubled seas. We may never be allowed ashore. Our sorrows will never be sad enough. Our joys never happy enough. Our dreams never bog enough. Our lives never important enough. To matter.

'D'you know what happens when you hurt people? Ammu said. 'When you hurt people, they begin to love you less. That's what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.'

It is after all so easy to shatter a story. To break a chain of through. To ruin a fragment of a dream being carried around carefully like a piece of porcelain.

If he touched her he couldn't talk to her, if he loved her he couldn't leave, if he spoke he couldn't listen, if he fought he couldn't win.