On Chesil Beach Access

Arthur looked at her. "I was wrong. We didn't stay, and look at us. We’re still jagged in all the wrong places."

Claire stopped and picked up a piece of pink-tinged quartz. "Do you remember what you told me here? You said that if we stayed, we’d become like the stones—smoothed down until we were all exactly the same." On Chesil Beach

"It never does," Claire said, looking out at the grey, forbidding sea. "It just rearranges itself." Arthur looked at her

"Talking didn't save us," Arthur said quietly. "We just used words to build a different kind of wall." We’re still jagged in all the wrong places

"We weren't like them, were we?" Claire asked suddenly. "The couple from the book? We had the words. We had the 'sexual liberation.' We talked until our throats were dry."