We walked back the way we came, and even though it was dark there were no lights burning inside the houses. They were like people without hearts; raspberry tarts without the jam.

Maybe if the empty space inside her was filled with love there'd be no room for sad and dark things.

Sometimes words come out of me and I don't know where they come from or why. They're like falling stars tumbling through the universe; bright, burning things that can't be stopped.

... 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.

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.