"My little fanciful sister of old! What do you hear in it?"
"Gloomy things, melancholy things ... but always very big things ... whereas we ourselves are so small, so very small...."
"People never change.... You're just the little sister that you used to be ... in the river ... with your fairy-tales...."
"But what I hear in the wind is not a fairy-tale."
"What do you hear?"
"Life: the whole of life itself.... Things of the past; things of the future; and all big and tremendous.... When I listen to the wind, the past becomes immense and the future tremendous ... and I remain so small, so small...."
"What you remain, child, is a dreamer...."
"No, I haven't remained so.... I may have become one again...."
"Yes, you have become one again.... I recognize you like this absolutely, just as you were as a slim, fair-haired little girl, the same little fairy-like vision.... How long ago it all is, Connie!... How everything melts away in our lives!... How old we grow!..."
"But all your children: they keep you young. They all ... they all belong to the future...."