Perhaps there's another, much larger story behind the printed one, a story that changes just as our own world does. And the letters on the page tell us only as much as we'd see peering through a keyhole. Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.

The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure.

I don't like to eat the same dish every day, so I read very different things.

Words are immortal - Elinor

Killing is easy," said Mo, "Dying is harder.

Women were different, no doubt about it. Men broke so much more quickly. Grief didn't break women. Instead it wore them down, it hollowed them out very slowly.

Power. Intoxicating. Like a fine wine.