“What did it feel like to die? Was it a peaceful sleep? Some thought it was full of either trumpet-blowing angels or angry devils. Perhaps I was already dead.”
“Where the bright seraphim in burning rowTheir loud uplifted angel trumpets blow.”
“If you die, angel, it means I'm already dead.”
“Come with uncle and hear all proper. Hear angel trumpets and devil trombones...you are invited!”
“She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.”
“Make sure it is God's trumpet you are blowing- if it is only yours it won't wake the dead, it will simply disturb the neighbours.”