“It is not," Valency could hear her mother's prim, dictatorial voice asserting, "it is not MAIDENLY to think about MEN.”

“Sometimes you want to hear your own mother's voice.”

“I reach for Prim in the twilight, clamp my hand on her leg and pull myself over to her. Her voice remains steady as she croons to Buttercup. "It's all right, baby, it's all right. We'll be OK down there." My mother wraps her arms around us. I allow myself to feel young for a moment and rest my head on her shoulder.”

“He had told her he would love her forever, but he could not stay with her. From that time on, she couldn't see his glow or hear his voice in her head. Could he still hear her? Was he even aware of her existence?”

“I could hear the exasperation in her voice, so beautiful and familiar, but sad, too, like hearing church bells right before your funeral.”

“Men hear loud voices, but they listen to strong words.”