“Dad called this the shadow time. The sun sucks colour from the world, he'd said. He'd taught her to see the softer colours of the dusk, the green and orange bark, the purple shadows. At times like this Flinty felt her edges vanish, leaving her part of the mountains, like the wallaby pulling wonga vine down from a thorn bush, or the sleepy possum peering from a tree.”
“The next day he woke up feeling like he'd been unshackled from his fat, like he'd been washed clean from his misery, and for a long time he couldn't remember why he felt this way, and then he said her name.”
“Something about him made her pause. When his eyes glittered back at her from the shadows, Ari felt his gaze on her with a jolt, like sun peering through the crack in a curtain, waking one with burning eyes and a groan. It wasn’t unpleasant but it was unexpected and intense.”
“He'd learned something. Life was booby-trapped and there was no easy passage through. You had to jump from colour to colour, from happiness to happiness. And all those possible explosions in between. It could be all over any time.”
“He'd told her that the phrase deal with the Devil came from him; Ellie felt like she was on the verge of selling her soul.”
“One of the most difficult things he'd ever done was turn away and leave her standing in the shadows.”