The robe smelled the same as before. It was very heavy, and became a warm, dark cave. Sophia fell asleep right away, and Grandmother sat down in the north window to wait. It was blowing hard, and the sun was setting. She was far-sighted and saw the boat half an hour before it reached the island – a moustache of white foam that would appear at irregular intervals and sometimes vanish entirely. - P89
A small island, on the other hand, takes care of itself. It drinks melting snow and spring rain and, finally, dew, and if there is a drought, the island waits for the next summer and grows its flowers then instead. The flowers are used to it, and wait quietly in their roots. There’s no need to feel sorry for the flowers, Grandmother said. - P91
The barking came nearer. When the dog caught sight of them, the barking rose an octave. It was a small black dog, as fierce as it was frightened. Its whole body shook with mixed feelings. - P79
Huge bales of real black inland soil were rolled ashore and lay around near the water like sleeping elephants. - P92
"Fritillaria imperialis," Sophia said. "Forsythia spectabilis! That’s a lot more elegant than ‘stepmother’." "Oh, I don’t know," Grandmother said. "For that matter, stepmother’s real name is Viola tricolor. Anyway, really elegant people don’t need nameplates." - P94
Once everything was in the earth, there was a long period of waiting. One still, warm day followed another. - P94
The island’s own turf dried out and turned up its edges like slices of old sausage, several spruces died, and every morning the weather was just as relentlessly beautiful. - P95
The thing about God, she thought, is that He usually does help, but not until you’ve made an effort on your own. - P97
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