Dairine:
She's changed. I don't know how, really, or why, but she's definitely different now, and nothing I say or do can make her reveal why. I've tried quite a few things already. But I notice that when she looks at the news her eyes fill up, though no tears fall.
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Betty Callahan:
My daughter was never boy-crazy, but now she seems to be, about one boy in particular. She regards him as family, and I wonder why. She hasn't known him long, yet I feel that she tells him things that she wouldn't say to us. I don't know what to think...
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Harry Callahan:
I've noticed that recently my eldest daughter has been spending more time with plants. Perhaps she'll follow in my footsteps…I'd like that. Yes, plant magic is in her blood. I can see it when she goes in the early evenings to sit beneath the old rowan tree in the backyard.
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Kit:
From not knowing her at all, I have gone to knowing her so well. I can't think what brought us this close. No…no. It was our Ordeal; facing death so many times, and seeing so many succumb to it…Fred, the Lotus, the trees. Still, at least we can grieve together.
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Nita:
I mourn them. My soul hurts, and sometimes it's all I can do to cry…often at night I speculate what might have happened had I not found the manual that day. But then I decide it is better not to wonder, even though too many died because of that choice.
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The Trees of the Dark Central Park:
We felt light for the first time; their touches were soft, their words gentle and kind. We hope they remained here, to shed the light, but we hope they are gone, because nothing good belongs in so terrible a place. But they are surely dead; we mourn silently for them.