“Peter stood, cleared his throat, and began to hum softly, then sing, slowly building up the song as his voice cleared. He found the old tune, the song of the Sunbird. And as he sung, as his rich voice echoed off the tall cliffs, the birds and the faeries lent him their voice and soon the tune drifted throughtout the garden.”

“When the railroad trains moaned, and river-winds blew, bringing echoes through the vale, it was as if a wild hum of voices, the dear voices of everybody he had known, were crying: "Peter, Peter! Where are you going, Peter?" And a big soft gust of rain came down. He put up the collar of his jacket, and bowed his head, and hurried along.”

“He had a clear, lyrical voice and his songs remained in her ears long after the music had ended.”

“Sing!" Grandpa Smedry yelled, his voice echoing down a hallway to the right."Sing!" If he breaks into song I think I might have to strangle myself... I thought, cringing.”

“In mirth he mocks the other birds at noon,Catching the lilt of every easy tune; But when the day departs he sings of love,—His own wild song beneath the listening moon.”

“Shhh, Eena, it’s going to be okay. I promise, you’ll get through this.” She didn’t fight him, but grabbed onto his shirt, weeping softly into it as before. He began to hum faintly, a familiar Earth tune. Soon he was singing the words in that deep, consoling voice of his. The song itself was meant to be comforting, and his tender manner made it that much more effectual. Eena recognized the song. She fell asleep to the soothing lyrics. Abide with me fast falls the eventide. The darkness deepens. Lord with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.He went on to sing the other verses, hoping to ease her broken heart. Until her grief finally healed, no matter how long it took, he’d be there for her.”