“She deftly snatches her mace and holds it in her purse for cover. She’s totally not about to be taken in by some pale silver eyed maniac.”

“The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.”

“Her eyes hold the pale moon in them, the way a still pond holds stars.”

“I’ll wait for however long it takesbecause I know she’s afraid that if sheallows herself to be totally happy, it willbe taken away from her again. She needsto know that I’m not going anywhere. I cantell her all I want, but she needs to feel it.”

“She thought she was a sensible girl. But some kind of love had taken hold of her and refused to let her go, and it wasn't a happy, easy, joyful thing, it had her in a vice-like grip.”

“I never said I didn’t identify with Lily,” she went on, her voice clear and her own. “I think in some way she’s the heart of the book. And her transformation at the end, when she’s finally able to finish her painting, after she doesn’t have anything holding her back…it’s one of the most important scenes in the novel. It’s when she finally realises who she is.”Mr Whitley nodded vaguely, pacing the length of a square-paned window overlooking the courtyard below.“And what was it?” he asked deliberately. “What do you think was holding her back all that time?”Olivia looked down at her feet, feeling every pair of eyes in the class burning holes into the top of her head. Miles’s mushroom loafers were fidgeting under the chair beside her, and she felt him holding his breathe. Her heart was pounding, but this time it was different. Everybody in the room was waiting for her, and that was okay. This time she had things to say.“The past,” Olivia answered finally. “The past was holding her back.”