“She looked down and saw hundreds of fragments of her face reflected back, a sliver of cheek, of throat, of eye. Who was she? An artist who didn't make art. A wife without a husband. A child with no mother.” — Coco Mellors Copy Share Image
“People are like this too, you know,” he says eventually. “We break. We put ourselves back together. The cracks are the best part. You… — Coco Mellors Copy Share Image
“She looked down and saw hundreds of fragments of her face reflected back, a sliver of cheek, of throat, of eye. Who was she?… — Coco Mellors Copy Share Image
