Not for the first time, I sharpened my eyes and my ears, on the lookout for similar situations, words of advice or crumbs of comfort. My hopes were raised on a rare visit to Lucy Cavendish not long after kind Kate Bertram’s retirement, when the new President was to introduce herself at a feast, a singular event for that College, and one which, despite my reservations about my own academic failings, I was reluctant to miss. After dinner, the new President rose to her feet and recounted the events of her life and of her academic career. Tears came to my eyes as she spoke of her marriage: her husband, too, had suffered from an incurable, disabling disease. Again it seemed for a brief moment that I had met someone with whom I might be able to talk freely, someone who would intuitively understand the tiredness and the despair behind the smiling but now hesitant façade. To my confusion, I heard her inviting the audience’s sympathy for a choice that had faced her – between her academic career and her husband – when she was offered a prestigious American Fellowship. She had taken up the Fellowship.
— Travelling to Infinity (Jane Hawking), Loc. 4060–7