“I tell you, my idea of a ghost is something quite different. Dead men rise up never – read even your poets. Ghosts breed in the living.”

“Go back to your ghost, I hear Bryn telling me. But she has it wrong. Bryn is the one who's been living with the ghost-the specter of a man who never stopped loving someone else.”

“Once you have given up the ghost, everything follows with dead certainty, even in the midst of chaos.”

“Liesl knew then that Po had been lying. The ghost did miss the living side. She understood then, too, that everyone drowns differently; and that for everyone, even ghosts, there is a different kind of air.”

“(What are your ghosts like?)(They are on the insides of the lids of my eyes.)(This is also where my ghosts reside.)(You have ghosts?)(Of course I have ghosts.)(But you are a child.)(I am not a child.)(But you have not known love.)(These are my ghosts, the spaces amid love.)”

“Wait." Amber jumped up wide-eyed. "Is she a—" "A ghost " I smirked. "Amber you're a necromancer in a show about raising the dead. What did you expect Eerie sounds produced by a computer and a few Hollywood actors in bad makeup Please don't tell me you've never seen a real ghost.”