“Her eyes were of different colors, the left as brown as autumn, the right as gray as Atlantic wind. Both seemed alive with questions that would never be voiced, as if no words yet existed with which to frame them. She was nineteen years old, or thereabouts; her exact age was unknown. Her face was as fresh as an apple and as delicate as blossom, but a marked depression in the bones beneath her left eye gave her features a disturbing asymmetry. Her mouth never curved into a smile. God, it seemed, had withheld that possibility, as surely as from a blind man the power of sight. He had withheld much else. Amparo was touched—by genius, by madness, by the Devil, or by a conspiracy of all these and more. She took no sacraments and appeared incapable of prayer. She had a horror of clocks and mirrors. By her own account she spoke with Angels and could hear the thoughts of animals and trees. She was passionately kind to all living things. She was a beam of starlight trapped in flesh and awaiting only the moment when it would continue on its journey into forever.” (p.33)”

“Give me a land of boughs in leafA land of trees that stand;Where trees are fallen there is grief;I love no leafless land.”

“Love the trees until their leaves fall off, then encourage them to try again next year.”

“Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.”

“Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they’re falling likethey’re falling in love with the ground.”