And, a passage that I'm particularly proud of:
“She was alive,” Harding said quietly. “Can you imagine, what it’s like to have something you’re so familiar with stand in front of you, wearing flesh and skin? Can you imagine how much it hurt, seeing that flesh dissolve into cold oils and pigments?”
The Doctor stared at him.
“You might think I’m a silly old man, in love with a painting on a wall.”
“No,” he answered.
“You think I’m an idiot
, crying over a mirage.”
“No,” he looked Harding in the eye. “I think you were very, very lucky.”