“But most of all I wrote about him - now called Max - my brother, our friend, missing now for 10 days. And I wrote about what I’d lost that morning. The witness of my soul, my shadow in childhood when dreams were small and attainable for all. When sweets were a penny and God was a rabbit.” DeathLossGriefDreamsMourningChildhood MemoriesSarah WinmanWhen God Was A Rabbit Book:When God Was a Rabbit Source: When God Was a Rabbit
“And then just as her lids closed, a dream lined up to take flight across her sleep, a dream that would deposit two images, at last, to the door of her mind: the image of a linnet, tentative and free, flying across the Thames with a chest full of song. The image of a young man looking towards a horizon that promised nothing. The fog bell mourned.” Dreams Book:A Year of Marvellous Ways Source: A Year of Marvellous Ways
