“He exuded ambiguities she decided, that was his fascination.His mouth spoke; his eyes said something other: his smile belied everything....He played with the language of the Circle of Days like a child with an arsenal of twigs.... His music said otherwise it seemed to echo through time out of a past as old as the stones on the hill. He lied with every note he played. Or in his music he finally told the truth.”

“Then one night Blake had saved them all.Blake made the old organ into a tool. You could see right into his soul through the notes he played. Beckett knew why Blake had Jesus’ eyes. Kindness, hope, and light filled the music he played.”

“Hembry," he said, not lifting his gaze from Juliana's. "We will retire to the music room. Lady Juliana wishes to play with me."She laughed at his outrageous statement as the butler disappeared to light the lamps in the music room. "Play for you, you rouge. Music. Nothing else.""Hmmm...," he enigmatically replied.Sinclair allowed her to put her own interpretation on his intentions as they entered the house.”

“He checked her face first to see if she was all right, then dropped his eyes to the keyboard. It was like someone had plugged him in. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open, and he stretched his fingers.“Will you play it, Blake? Will you?” Livia almost jumped with excitement.Blake covered his smile. He nodded. Livia plopped the keyboard on the kitchen table, which was still moist from where he’d wiped it with the kitchen sponge.Blake kissed her and then spoke solemnly. “I’ll play it for you.”

“...he brought music of his own, and awakened every fairy echo with the tender accents of his oboe...”

“He knew only that his child was his warrant. He said: If he is not the word of God God never spoke.”