“She was a page torn from a calendar, a year folded neatly and laid aside in some place you never look.”

“Outside in the barnlot he looked up and the pale moon was directly over him and all-encompassing. It appeared to be lowering itself onto the earth and he could make out mountains and ranges of hills and hollows and dark shadowed areas of mystery he judged to be timber and he wondered what manner of beast thrived there and what their lives were like and the need to be there twisted in his heart like an old pain that will not dissipate.”

“don't start talkin about books or quotin poems at them. these is good folks but they ain't real crazy about readin books. just do what i do and you'll be all right.”

“Bryn’s back was to me, auburn hair pulled up in the usual sloppy-romantic twist. Soft murmurs came from her as she gently pruned dead leaves from a strange green plant.“They’re never going to talk back. You know that, right?”She turned, suppressing her smile. “Shows how little you know about earth crafting. They always talk back.”

“A little girl and her father were walking along in the evening. She was fascinated by the stars, and kept looking up at them, but made no comment until her father asked what she was thinking. She replied, "If the bottom side of heaven is so beautiful, how wonderful the other side must be”

“Wherever your path takes you, may all your deathbed wishes come true, and may you celebrate each and every one of them many long years before your final breath.”

“It wasn't until after we were pulling into the back lot of Station One that I remembered asking Hank if he wanted to have coffee and talk.Crap.I slid a quick glance his way to find him staring out the window. His expression reminded me of a conversation I had with Emma when she was six years old and I found her sitting with her knees drawn up on the back of the couch, staring out the window."Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?""I'm looking out the window.""Why?""Because that's what people do when they're sad. They stare out the window.”