- [first lines]
- Narrator: The housekeeper knew, more than most, that deep experience was never peaceful. And because she knew this ever since she'd first called Bly home, she would always find her way back to peace within her daily routine, and it had always worked. Always.
- Owen: [joining Mrs. Grose at the bonfire] We can't count on the past. We can't count on the past. That's what I learned taking care of Mum. Hm. It's kind of what dementia is, isn't it? I supposed I learned a lot on this. I mean, we - we think we have it trapped in our memories, but memories fade, or they're wrong. Any of us could die, at any moment. Or we could forget our entire lives, which is like dying. So then, think about it. We can't count on our future, either. No past. No future.
- Mrs. Grose: Oh, my God, it's scary, I know, but, Owen, you're young. Like, you have a past, you have a future. Now, I'd argue you can count on both. Poor, sweet, drunk man.