A Prayer for Owen Meany
Since her death, Owen had hinted that the strongest force compelling him to attend Gravesend Academy—namely, my mother's insistence—was gone. Those rooms allowed us to imagine what we might become—if not exactly boarders (because I would continue to live with Dan, and with Grandmother, and Owen would live at home), we would still harbor such secrets, such barely restrained messiness, such lusts, even, as these poor residents of Waterhouse Hall. It was our lives in the near future that we were searching for when we searched in those rooms, and therefore it was shrewd of Owen that he made us take our time. (4.54)
That was how we ended up on Newbury Street—one Wednesday afternoon in the fall of '61. I know now that it was NO ACCIDENT that we ended up there. (7.46)
"Don't bother, kid," said Mr. McSwiney. "If he was looking for you, he would have found you."
"GOD WILL TELL HIM WHO HIS FATHER IS," Owen said; Graham McSwiney shrugged. (7.181-182)