“Lucille always loved a strong breeze. She said it was nature's way of blowing away our sorrows.'Just then another gust of wind whipped around us. Aunt Tootie smiled. I smiled too.”

“A strong breeze is natures way of blowing away our sorrows.”

“And as for her sister,he wished a strong wind would just blow her away.”

“... every available inch of his face busts into a smile - whoa. Has he blown into our school on a gust of wind from another world? The guy looks unabashedly jack-o'-lantern happy, which couldn't be more foreign to the sullen demeanor most of us strove to perfect.”

“Somehow she always seems blurred, as though to focus on anything that exists beyond a canvas might prove too difficult for her tiny frame to handle. When I was a very little girl, whenever she made me angry, I would imagine a strong wind simply blowing her away.”

“Her white skin and those dark brown eyes and the way she always smiled at the world - always, it seemed - as if her face had been designed that way. The smile never went away.”