He was like a shattered stained-glass window: something beautiful that's broken; a million colours fallen on the ground where no light can get through.

....you were a jumble of broken bits of glass the sun caught and stained my soul with your colors....

... we sat back and let the moon shine itself all over her, and we saw that Tia was full of light. Billy said that when we die the darkness leaves us.
'We're pure and perfect then,' he said, 'the way we are when we're born.

Sometimes I can see colour without opening my eyes. I saw that Billy's heart was no colour and every colour. Like water or diamonds or crystals, it's pure and reflects the light.

Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.

I've always done a lot of different things - quilts and making dolls and stained glass - but this has been the most rewarding.