Hazel finds it strange that here they are among ten thousand students, all free and equal in a godless world, most of whom spend their days praying for the glamour of Acts of God. These will come in the form of an amazing boy or a fabulous girl, or a fantastic exam result on zero revision. Everyone is hoping for a miracle, for a direct painless hit from a metaphorical thunderbolt, a kind of supernatural smart bomb to explode the start of their lives in the right direction.
There was always this same problem with the present moment. It was never laid out as placidly as the past, with its neat consecutive events, and you never knew quite as clearly where you stood.
It's too late for Hazel to learn the people she meets now, where they've been and what they've done and why. They carry in themselves too much information from elsewhere, which takes too long to absorb and understand.