“My voice, at first rough and breaking on the high notes, warms up into something splendid. A voice that would make the mockingjays fall silent and then tumble over themselves to join in.”

“Not everyone is treated with such respect. But whenever my father sang, all the birds in the area would fall silent and listen. His voice was beautiful, high and clear and so filled with life it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.”

“The Archangel." I murmured. looking back over my shoulder at the ride, which had started its next ascent."It means high-ranking angel." There was a definite smugness to his voice. "The higher up, the harder the fall.”

“And I ran after that voice through the streets so as not to lose sight of the splendid wreath of bodies gliding over the city, and I realized with anguish in my heart that they were flying like birds and I was falling like a stone, that they had wings and I would never have any.”

“There's a look of mischief in his eyes. 'Smilla. Why is it that such an elegant and petite girl like you has such a rough voice.' I'm sorry,' I say, 'if I give you the impression that it is only my mouth that's rough. I do my best to be rough all over.”

“Love demands expression. It will not stay still, stay silent, be good, be modest, be seen and not heard, no. It will break out in tongues of praise, the high note that smashes the glass and spills the liquid.”