“Do the other angels know what they are doing? Am I the only confused one? Maybe I am unfinished, an unfinished angel.”

“Something I am wondering:if you cannot heardo you have no soundsin your head?Do you seea silent movie”

“Am I supposed to do something important? It doesn't seem enough to merely take up space on this planet in this country in this state in this town in this family.”

“I wondered about Mrs. Winterbottom and what she meant about living a tiny life. If she didn't like all that baking and cleaning and jumping up to get bottles of nail polish remover and sewing hems, why did she do it? Why didn't she tell them to do some of the things themselves? Maybe she was afraid there would be nothing left for her to do. There would be no need for her and she would become invisible and no one would notice.”

“Maybe it was the same with people: if you studied them,you'd see new and different things. But would you like what you saw? Did it depend on who was doing the looking?”

“A driver had been sent to meet us. He was gray-haired, short, and nimble and introduced himself. "I am Patrick and so is every fourth man in Ireland, and the ones in between are named Sean or Mick or Finn, and I'll be driving you.”

“I tried.Can't do it.Brain's empty.”