“...leaving the air crystal and sweet and the dusty, used leaves sparkling. The lake surface was a diamond-dusted, dancing indigo...”

“On the day that Raphael crossed the border, the seas had turned a violent impossible blue, as had every river and every lake across the world. Even the rain that fell from the sky was a glorious blue, and when it shattered, it left behind a sparkling residue, faceted diamond dust in the palm”

“I’m tired of her diving deep into nothing and leaving me on the surface. Waiting for her to come back up for air.”

“The stars are duller than an old pocket knife, they used to sparkle like five-carat diamonds.”

“It was like dawn, and then dusk cascading over the Himalayas. First, the gradual brightening over snow and contour, then the shining, sparkling sun mirrored; and then as the moment of joy passed – the lingering colour-changing light; reluctant to leave. That faint, bittersweet almost-light, and then indigo outlines and inky black.”

“But something cannot be made out of nothing. Dust rose in the air, caught the rays of the sun for a brief moment and sparkled, and then returned to the earth as mere dust.”