“The bird is gone, and in what meadow does it now sing?”

“I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.”

“For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth: the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”

“Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.”

“Who knows what's for true once a time is past? There's no way to prove how something was that's gone. And if a time is gone, what does it matter? It's all rain into rivers now.”

“...For can you think how it would be, to never, never hear a meadow lark sing again...?”