“And as he spoke, like the flush creeping along the underside of a cloud at sunrise, the colour came back to her white face and get eyes grew bright and she sat up and said, 'Why, I do declare I… — C.S. Lewis Copy Share Image
“The sunrise was the colour of bad blood. It leaked out of the east and stained the dark sky red, marked the scraps of the cloud with stolen gold. Underneath it the road twisted up the mountainside towards the fortress… — Joe Abercrombie Copy Share Image
