Once you name something, it stops you seeing all of it, or why it matters. You focus on the word; which is just the tiniest part, really, the tip of an iceberg. (Location 91)
Somehow grasping at vanishing snowflakes is like grasping at happiness; an act of possession which instantly gives way to nothing. (Location 262)
The sun is low and red in a golden sky – the heath looks different in this light – darker shadows, brighter colours. The grass looks like it’s on fire, flickering flames under my feet. (Location 752)
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