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— Jenny Downham"Was this love? Because it hurt. It was like a bit of glass stuck somewhere important--his heart or his head, and it was throbbing."
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I hurl the glass teapot to the ground. we both stare at it, stunned. "it was supposed to break," I explain after a pause, " and that was going to signify that yes, I would throw something away . If I knew it wasn't right for me.
— Sophie Kinsella
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If Tolstoy were alive today and working at Panopticon Insurance, he'd say that all insurance companies are the same, then throw himself through an eighteenth story window and plunge to his death in a hail of glass and shattered dignity" (70).
— Paul Neilan
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