Like his parents, Stephen had no hesitation in declaring himself an atheist, despite the strong Methodist background of his Yorkshire grandparents. It was understandable that, as a cosmologist examining the laws that governed the universe, he could not allow his calculations to be muddled by a confessed belief in the existence of a creator God, quite apart from the confusion his illness might be creating in his mind. I was quite glad to get away from the tedium of regular Sunday church-going, but was not inclined to abandon my beliefs completely. Even then, possibly under my mother’s influence, I was convinced that there had to be more to heaven and earth than was contained in Stephen’s cold, impersonal philosophy. Although by this stage I was completely under his spell, bewitched by his clear blue-grey eyes and the broad dimpled smile, I resisted his atheism. Instinctively I knew that I could not allow myself to succumb to such a negative influence, which could offer no consolation, no comfort and no hope for the human condition. Atheism would destroy us both. I needed to cling to whatever rays of hope I could find and maintain sufficient faith for the two of us if any good were to come of our sad plight.
— Travelling to Infinity (Jane Hawking), Loc. 499–507