“The calla lilies are in bloom again. Such a strange flower—suitable to any occasion. I carried them on my wedding day, and now I place them here in memory of something that has died.”

“I once saw many flowers blooming Upon my way, in indolence I scorned to pick them in my going And passed in proud indifference. Now, when my grave is dug, they taunt me; Now, when I'm sick to death in pain, In mocking torment still they haunt me, Those fragrant blooms of my disdain.”

“I carry all of my childhood memories in my mind. But maybe that’s not the best place for them. Well, you’ve got some extra space in your closet. Do you think I could store them there?”

“Ephemerals: That's what Hub called them; flowers that bloomed and died in a matter of weeks, before the trees leafed out and shaded them. She liked the way the word sounded in her head. I am an ephemeral. It made her feel like something passing and precious.”

“Silently a flower blooms,In silence if falls away;Yet here now, at this moment, at this place,The world of the flower, the whold of the world is blooming.This is the talk of the flowr, the truth of the blosson:The glory of eternal life is fully shining here.”

“The best-case scenario here is that you make friends with a boy who's going to die.""Ah," said Calla, in a very, very knowing way. "Now I see.""Don't psychoanalyse me," her mother said."I already have. And I say again, 'ah'.”