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“Barnacles stud the smooth dark skin, and crabs scurry across it. That black back must be slippery, treacherous like rock â€� But you see the hole in its back, the breath going in and out, and you think of all the blowholes along this coast; how a clever man can slip into them, fly inland one moment, back to ocean the next. Always curious, always brave, you take one step and the whale is underfoot. Two steps more and you are sliding, sliding deep into a dark and breathing cave that resonates with whale song. Beside you beats a blood-filled heart so warm it could be fire. Plunge your hands into that whale heart, lean into it and squeeze and let your voice join the whale’s roar. Sing that song your father taught you as the whale dives, down, deep. How dark it is beneath the sea, and looking through the whale’s eyes you see bubbles slide past you like â€� But there was none of that. Bobby was only imagining, only writing. Held in the sky on a rocky headland, Bobby drew chalk circles on slate, drew bubbles. Bubelz. Roze a wail. He erased the marks with the heel of his hand. It wasn’t true, it was just an old story, and he couldn’t even remember the proper song.”
― Kim Scott, That Deadman Dance: A Novel

“Tilly would need a new environment, and good people around her. She had nowhere to go really. They’d seen enough addiction to know coming back to the same didn’t work anyway. But it would be good for her to get back into school somehow, especially since she’d been doing her last years of schooling and was doing alright from all accounts.
“She’s a state ward. You could be her guardian? If she agrees? If we can get her at a boarding school or hostel or something? Then you’d only need to have her here in the holidays, maybe?�
She might get a residential place at one of the boarding schools. Something. If she could rest, if she recovered, if she wanted.”
― Kim Scott, Taboo