“Twas a still, calm night and the moon's pale lightShone over hill and daleWhen friends mute with grief stood around the deathbedOf their loved, lost Lily Lyle.Heart as pure as forest lilyNever knowing guile,Had its home within the bosomOf sweet Lily Lyle.”

“Candleford Green was but a small village and there were fields and meadows and woods all around it. As soon as Laura crossed the doorstep, she could see some of these. But mere seeing from a distance did not satisfy her; she longed to go alone far into the fields and hear the birds singing, the brooks tinkling, and the wind rustling through the corn, as she had when a child. To smell things and touch things, warm earth and flowers and grasses, and to stand and gaze where no one could see her, drinking it all in.”

“Afterwards, they always had tea in the kitchen, much the nicest room in the house.”

“There Laura spent many happy hours, supposed to be picking fruit for jam, but for the better part of the time reading or dreaming. One corner, overhung by a Samson tree and walled in with bushes and flowers, she called her 'green study'.”

“When I am dead and in my headAnd all my bones are are rotten,Take this book and think of meAnd mind I'm not forgotten.”

“No, I be-ant expectin' nothin', but I be so yarnin”

“It was well past midnight, quiet, few people around. All noises had retreated. The night seemed to have its own resonance. At that hour, the city's a gong that was struck at noon and is not yet quite still.”