~'I know this is petty, Lord,' Margaret prayed, 'and I am not proud of this, but I need to talk to you about Sister Celia's false teeth. It's the way they whistle when she prays, Lord. I feel like I cannot stand one more hour of it.'~

~There was so much wrong with people's attitudes to girls getting pregnant in the past, here and in Ireland.~

~'Are we religious Sisters just dinosaurs?' Margaret suddenly prayed in anguish. 'Do you need nuns any more? Is there a place in the Ark for us? But you killed off the dinosaurs,' she thought bleakly, if a little confusedly.~

~Don't you think it's terrible to pay for a saint?~

~You said, maybe it wasn't death that was the unheard melody, but eternal life, breaking into ordinary life?~