“She tried to walk softly and wished the trees wouldn't stare at her so.”

“I have to give her what you did, don't I?" she said. "Enough of my personal information for Aurilelde to link to her own... so that the congruency between us is complete, and all this works out the way it should..."Kit didn't say anything....But why wouldn't I? Nita thought. To make all this come out all right. She nodded to Irina. Irina nodded back, turned away.And only then did it occur to Nita, with a shock, that this would mean it hadn't been Aurilelde who Kit had been so attracted to. It was her...”

“A warp," Nita whispered. "A tunnel through space-time. Are you a white hole?"It stopped bobbing, stared at her as if she had said something derogatory. (Do I look like a hole?)”

“Power," Nita heard her father say behind her. "Creation. Forces from before time. This is--this business is for saints, not children!"Even saints have to start somewhere," Carl said softly. "And it's always been the children who have saved the universe from the previous generation and remade the universe in their own image.”

“Fred started to follow, but Nita caught him in cupped hands, holding him back for a moment. "Fred! Did we do right?" Even here she couldn't keep the pain out of her question, the fear that she could have somehow have prevented his death. But Fred radiated a serene and wondering joy that took her breath and reassured her and filled her with wonder to match his, all at once. Go find out, he said.”

“Don't be afraid to make corrections! Whether the voice came from her memory or was a last whisper from the blinding new star far above, Nita never knew. But she knew what to do. While Kit was still on the first part of the name she pulled out her pen, her best pen that Fred had saved and changed. She clicked it open. The metal still tingled against her skin, the ink at the point still glittered oddly- the same glitter as the ink with which the bright Book was written. Nita bent quickly over the Book and with the pen, in lines of light, drew from the final circle an arrow pointing up-ward, the way out, the symbol that said change could happen- if, only if-”

“Sometimes we do not hear the Whisperer even at her loudest because she speaks in our own voice, the one we most often discount.”