Emma M Lion Quotes

The idea that one could live in a world where a friend would invite you to go read in another’s library feels more dream than reality. It bodes well for my life’s prospects

Does he read?” “Oh, I expect not. How else would one remain so incredibly stupid?

Is it immoral to marry a man solely to gain a library? And if that man happens to be tremendously good looking, is it more or less of a sin?

And I think that was the moment I began to suspect that the luck Hawkes spoke of might really only be an awareness, an awareness of grace.

I make a go of it, when I can. It’s not my disposition to…what I mean to say is, I learned a long time ago that my happiness has to be separate from the things beyond my control.

I’ve decided positivity is the Everest of virtues. You have to not only confront the dismal realities of life but choose, ofttimes, to blatantly ignore them.

I hadn’t realised until that moment how much I’ve missed that feeling, of someone inside your four walls watching out for you. The feeling that home isn’t just a place, but also people. I’ve forgotten it could be.

Life must be lived. And if we can enjoy some of it, so much the better.

It takes a great deal to trust the future after one is acquainted with loss.

It was Hawkes who gave voice. “Alchemy.” I shivered. That mythical pursuit that turns disparate elements to gold.

I sit at the very top of a fresh month with a choice before me. One which very well may have an impact on the whole of my existence. Which book do I read next?

A grin is only a smile that’s fully decided to get on with it.

There is no feeling quite like finishing a book that you’ve loved. I expect to feel nothing less.

Dreams are not reality. UNTIL THEY ARE.

Hawkes began slowly. “It takes a great deal to trust the future after one is acquainted with loss.” “It feels impossible, for longer than is comforting. And then too tentative to trust.” “It does. But it seems that sword pierced Christ so that we always have a future. Even one different than planned.

While there are many things beyond our control, I’ve always thought the cruellest is that we mortals are not told when our last glance is just that.

It’s messier than we ever imagined it to be as children,” he said. “What?” “Life.

But my true love is the evening walk, that last hour of daylight that has its way with sunlight, shadow, and soul. That was the case this evening. The lamps were lit, light coming from the houses, and there walked I, alone, and not upset to be so.

We cannot always predict the outcomes of our actions, Miss Lion, however well intended.” I stood. “What else is life but a string of outcomes beyond our control?

My mother always felt that Christmas -- a proper Christmas -- was meant to delight every sense

Of course I’m coming with you. Don’t be daft. My friends do not go to war alone.

I was there,” I exclaimed. “I could see myself, and the fire, the cool from the window, the table was piled with books, and I was writing something. And it was life, my life, and…and there were footsteps on the stairs.” “Whose?” “I don’t know. But he sounded like the other half of home.

Oh, how words love Hawkes. They wrap around the unexpected inflections of his voice, eager, offering their best cadence and lilt and soul. They know him well, and he them. Almost as if words are the one thing in his life he has never had to push away. He speaks words the way they pound in my chest. And it feels like a miracle, finding such a dear part of oneself walking around in someone else’s body.

He said he wished you to be wise, and good, and true to the beatings of your own heart, and hoped that you could be spared the extremes of society, both the very poor and the very rich, so that neither need nor indulgence would spoil the soul he loved more than anything else in the world.

I had forgotten what it is like to live with an artist. The unexpected pauses over what might be considered mundane to most.

But sometimes family gets their minds stuck on what a person is, and they won’t let it go. She’s taken a piece of Islington, formed a picture as to his character, and run with it all the way to America.

We must be our own before we can be another’s.

He’s a bit mad, that one.” I couldn’t help thinking maybe it wasn’t madness at all, merely that he understood something the rest of us didn’t.

Maybe I’m coming down with something. Like a cold, or an allergy to people in general.

Spring gives us more than we deserve.

there is never time for what one plans to do, only what one does.

But it seems that sword pierced Christ so that we always have a future. Even one different than planned.

I learned a long time ago that my happiness has to be separate from the things beyond my control.

My friends do not go to war alone." Pierce

It takes a courageous man to marry a woman with a mind.

His words hurt in the way that truth does when you wish it was a lie but you know you cannot claim it to be.

If you want quality, you must work for it. You wake and you strive and you make decisions to sacrifice. An easy life will never bring the kind of satisfaction the soul craves. I despise people who lounge all day as if there weren’t more important ideas than comfort, complacency, and appetite. Stretch yourself! Be industrious! Do something!

one can love many places and still miss home.

The edge of life can be marked in black faster than one would suppose. Why not ring all the bells?

I expect you want tea, now that you’ve driven my curiosity a country mile and abandoned it on the side of the road?

One should go away long enough to know the cotton-soft contentment of coming home.

That every day should leave some part Free for a sabbath of the heart.

Yet here I was, determined to fight in the shade. I felt lifted. Noble. Spartan.

Keep your answers brief, tidy, and without too many loose strings she can pull at.

Question: Ought I read the papers more than I do? Answer: Likely. However: Books.

Women with pockets are a threat to the male sex.

I have found that on occasions of high absurdity, one either discovers a great friend or someone to never speak with again.

Our conversation was very June and very Afternoon, meaning it meandered like a honey bee.

It can be a terrible task, that of learning to divide the light from dark, for we agonize beneath the weight that someone we care for might be caught in the twilight of our indecision, our ignorance, our selfishness, or our fear.” Finally, he looked at me. “But when I recall that with the light of God comes the abundance of God, I take courage. Virtus Apprime.

I’ve always enjoyed the small turn that happens when one month folds into another. The exchange of the many for the one, the end for the beginning, over and over and over. My mother would say to look for bright things at a new month—“First day, Emma. What do you see gleaming?

I must march forward before my desire has flown and I become one of those contented souls chained to their small routine, all the while believing themselves to be free. Don’t think I mind a routine, that’s just what I’m craving. But the right routine. My routine. Two walks a day, several hours of reading, perhaps one visit with someone I enjoy. One dinner or entertainment per week if you must, possibly two, but please let there be reading.

As a child, I always thought the shadows cast at Christmastide held something of magic in them. That if you pried up the edges, light would come spilling out from the nooks and crannies of the day.

As for how we’ve varied, I would take my path a thousand times over in a thousand lives, however difficult—the art, the colour, the way that light bends gold around my memories, even the unhappy ones. I have known love and lost. I was gifted so much.

On a cream card a single word was scrawled: Imperterritus. I flipped the card over, and embossed in gold was a beautiful lion. It was not docile, neither was it ferocious or violent, rather, it was undaunted. Which is what, I learned upon investigation, Imperterritus means in Latin. Undaunted. Fearless.

But I am not the heroine of a novel. I am flesh, blood—interesting enough on occasion, with dull edges here and there, living a life of the expected and the unexpected, the wanted and the worst of the unwanted.

Then he said, and I quote, “Either a friendship with you is the grandest thing in the world, Miss Lion, or you are delusional. Which is it?” An unfair question, I felt. Surely there is room for a degree of both?

And I hadn’t realised until that moment how much I’ve missed that feeling, of someone inside your four walls watching out for you. The feeling that home isn’t just a place, but also people. I’ve forgotten it could be.

The memory came to mind just now. And something I’ve not felt for longer than I care to admit began to take shape. That, come sunshine or cloud, I was going to be fine. More than fine. In place, and strong, and anchored in.

A year is such an odd packet of time. It seems so ordered: a dozen months, a handful of seasons. Deceptively even. Make no mistake, it will go awry every which way. Balance? Impossible. Control? Not worth mentioning the word. Some days cling and others run, many shifting just enough to incommode but give no great variety. And then out of the pedestrian blue comes an explosion which reduces all plans to smithereens. The reward for making it through? Getting to do it again.

July 4th Archibald is spending the day having Parian sing “God Save the Queen” while he—Archibald, not Parian—curses the Colonies. He is also dressed in full mourning.

Manners must prevail! When they suit one's situation, that is.

It held. We, the four of us, held.

There is a lightness that comes after truth is spoken plainly

Silence among friends forms a pleasant shape.

Yes, well, sometimes having questionable friends is doing the work of the Lord.

...My Friends do not go to war alone.

We all cast shadows from our past, only how difficult a thing it is to let others see them.

Nothing puts one’s mishaps in perspective like the comical telling.

Something in my heart untwisted when he said the word home.

Two paths leading to a love. Both true. A different shape of happiness to be found with each. Which path you take? Depends on many things. What you choose. What they choose. A thousand other decisions, or possibly very few. One you would love deeply. One you would love completely. One sharp as a knife. One a game of mirrors.One more difficult. One less free. Both inheritors to the line that refused to die when your first heart was buried.

Goodnight.” And I hadn’t realised until that moment how much I’ve missed that feeling, of someone inside your four walls watching out for you. The feeling that home isn’t just a place, but also people. I’ve forgotten it could be.

Never trust a man who can say so many things with a single syllable.

Bless Hawkes.

And if Islington enters, then Hawkes appears.

Novel writers, bless them, are such strange birds.

Think of your worst qualities and be prepared to discuss what we might do with them.

Foolishness perhaps. Yet comforting. As stories are sometimes meant to be.

Is it too cold?” Islington asked. “We could take tea somewhere.” “Certainly not. I find that if I can embrace pain a quarter of an hour, almost everything becomes tolerable.

I soon finished my draft and set it on the table, then opened Latin Phrases for the Unrepentant, watching him work, and asking questions. It was an easy back and forth.

I like days of solitude. Not as an everyday dress, but for the special occasion where one's world revolves so slowly it is almost stillness.

He said nothing, did nothing but keep me close. I, feeling like a ghost he kept chained to earth.

He was never ours to begin with. Some things have to be let go. They weren’t made to stay.

Trust only those not affected by love to judge with clarity.” “I believe a few more desserts would give us the clarity we need.

If there is one thing I’ve learned from my vicar,” I replied, “it’s that I do not have to explain myself to anyone.

My mother would say to look for bright things at a new month—“First day, Emma. What do you see gleaming?

Sometimes we are too sad to trust in anything, even happiness,” Mrs. Morrow replied.

What else is life but a string of outcomes beyond our control?

I enjoy a man who can unironically speak of fearing women.

Here’s to the small victories.

You must be fighting fit, Emma, whatever else. Most of life is the ability to be ready for what comes your way.

His smile came easily, but I could almost see the marionette strings pulling it onto his face. I don’t trust him at all.

The garret has mice. I weep.

For a moment I thought perhaps I ought to apply the lesson to my own life, but rational thought and a good dose of assurance put an end to self-improvement.

You are the most singular woman I have ever met

Perhaps it is loss that truly ages us in the end.

Hawkes clearly has full diplomatic immunity to the country of Islington, with no hesitation to enter, accept sustenance from the natives, be given chocolate, and sit contentedly with a book.

I have experienced something I can’t quite understand.” Hawkes waited, then, “A state I’ve known.” “What do you do with it?” “I wait on the shore of the mystery to see what the tide will bring.

You say that you are my judge; I do not know if you are: but take good heed not to judge me ill, because you would put yourself in great peril. And I warn you so that if God punish you for it, I shall have done my duty in telling you.

You know those rare afternoons when sunlight is slanting across the fields but it's raining? It always feels like such a thing should be impossible, and no matter what else has happened that day, you feel absurdly happy? That is how you look now, thinking of him.

When I entered the front door, I was met by a fretful Agnes. “I wondered if he’d done you in, Miss! But I could’na think of where he’d have put your body!” I believe my face showed mild disappointment. “Agnes. Really! Anyone knows the river is as good a place as any.

Is that not a good deal of extra work?” “What should that matter?” he said as if slamming his words against the table. “We have an opportunity to create order from chaos. One book, one year. Simple. Elegant. Certainly it’s extra work! Fine things, fine ideas, fine people, require work! This entire age is indulgent and selfish and shortsighted, complaining that easy things are not as easy as they’d like.

The truth of the matter is I find myself thinking of him. Pierce. Not Theseus. Often. I like Niall Pierce. I am more than fond of Niall Pierce. When he walks into the room, I want him to come stand beside me. It’s only getting worse, isn’t it? I should have simply ended with, I like Niall Pierce, and saved myself the embarrassment.

Gusts of wind like cannon fire shaking the windows, as if the storm were being thrown against Lapis Lazuli by the handfuls. Warlike and belligerent, only a thin roof between myself and each clap of thunder. The battle raged until dawn, water streaming off the roof and down the window like an extra sheet of glass, distorting the grey morning.

I refrained from making a long-suffering expression. I did not. Long-suffering expression was made.

Things that ought to come with warnings rarely do.

And a Wordsworth sonnet, The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers…

we were happily laughing when we came round a corner to meet a familiar mustache, which happened to be attached to the face of my banker, Mr. Penury.

We cannot always predict the outcomes of our actions

Life never fails you in this one thing: There is always an unexpected sleight of hand.

It takes a great deal to trust the future after one is acquainted with loss.” “It feels impossible

We often hear people say life is not fair, and yet it always feels like stubbing one's toe when we actually find it to be true.

But my true love is the evening walk

I want to give my soul plenty of room to mark the moment.

(Morning robe or mourning robe? How is one to know?)

I would accept, and ask Agnes to be my second. Mr. Pierce and I would duel in the street. I would die.

For the love of mischief, utter nothing of sense, I beg of you.

There was a wave of emotion on his face. Of anger, or futility, or regret. But it was not at me. It was for me. I’ve no idea what it meant.

It was then Hawkes pulled me from the water.

That Reprobate of a vicar was smiling.

I’ve just met a very particularly pruned woman, and I am beginning to believe I want you to encourage my eccentricities when I grow old.

walked longingly past The Dalliance today

Gossip and meanness have a way of making one feel beaten down

Lose the occasional member of the family so the family fortune Remains Intact.

Me calling him stupid was less a reflection of his ability and more of the state in which he exists.

Most of life is the ability to be ready for what comes your way.

Aren’t you supposed to be in a crypt somewhere, for your sins?” Islington asked in a ducal tone. “They evicted me,” I snapped. “Who?” “The dead.

I took my tentative hope with me.

Truth be told, there are things one wouldn’t wish on one’s worst enemy.

We mostly managed protocol one.

Even the tea tastes stale. My entire life digresses.

Steady on, Emma,” I calmed. “You’ve done much worse. Far worse. And are alive to tell the tale.

Most of us are afraid of the shadow our destiny casts. He didn’t seem to be.

There’s nothing worse than someone who would shrink their generosity for the sake of keeping what they want,

My life isn’t always my preferred method

Innocent sleep,” he quoted. “Sleep that soothes away all our worries. Sleep that puts each day to rest. Sleep that relieves the weary labourer and heals hurt minds. Sleep

Fine things, fine ideas, fine people, require work! This entire age is indulgent and selfish and shortsighted, complaining that easy things are not as easy as they’d like.

There is no worse evil than a bad woman. –Euripides When Aunt Eugenia sends a missive, run far, far away. –Emma M. Lion

If I were to go through this life exclusively on what I think, I would not get very far. However amusing it may prove to be.

JOLLY GOOD FUN!” they all cried out.

And moving on we did. But not before I smiled at hearing the word betwixt spoken aloud. Betwixt.

Well, let us hold the pass. No traitors among us. WE WILL FIGHT IN THE SHADE.

Bless a man who knows how to keep his own counsel when you can’t bear to speak.

I look in this mirror and recognise myself less now than when I was a child. I suppose that happens when you’ve grown up and still don’t understand your place in the world.

Christmas with my parents held wonder. It shimmered like a constellation.

I’ve decided that my life has fallen into an appallingly degenerate state. If only I weren’t enjoying it so very much.

Ah

Am I simply mistaking paralysis for healing?(August 16th)

and you will look very thoughtful and intelligent. Let us hope you are. Unless you hope to marry soon. Then let us hope you are not. It takes a courageous man to marry a woman with a mind.

A voice spoke. It sounded like a lion would speak, if it could talk. I WARNED YOU! In a way that would probably have been comic to watch, Lucinda and I turned, slowly, to see Spider the cat sitting between us and the door. ‘The cat just spoke,’ said Lucinda blankly. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Cats don’t talk.’ ‘I know that, too.’ I’m not a cat. And I told you to stay away from here.

This ruse with Islington is advantageous to your not being left behind, but an actual guardian?” Hawkes shook his head. “That isn’t what you need.” “What is it you think I need?” He looked as if it were obvious. “To remain undaunted.

I nearly sliced it clean off?” he retorted. “If I remember, you were the one who had gotten hold of your uncle’s sword—” “That small fact is not overly relevant to how you looked, Roland,” I insisted, taking off my gloves. “Did it scar?

I once asked him about the afterlife. I said, "Maxwell, what do you think it will be like?" He answered back, "Well, Lion, I can't rightly say, but I do hope I'll know better what to do with that one than I do with the one I've got at present.

These long days out of doors feel like coming home to a place to which I've always held a key, but was told it should be put away. But, oh! There has been a sovereignty of self in this place--of body, of spirit, of the intangible magic which sews the two together. To shout and run. To lie in tall grasses and watch the wind play the sunlight both true and false. To feel the building threat of rain and watch it crash to earth from the tenuous safety beneath a tree rather than from behind a window.

But it’s a tangled thing and I don’t understand all the reasons why. I feel like a jumble drawer inside. You know the sort. The drawer where every odd thing is placed because you’re not certain where it is to go? I need time to sort it out. Both what is past

Aunt Eugenia sniffed, “Yes, well if you read only Exodus, I approve. But if I hear tell you’ve been spending time in the New Testament, I shall remove your Bible entirely.” “Why is that Aunt?” “Paul.” “Paul?” “Paul. Paul, with his charity above all. Paul, who feels free to chastise us all like schoolchildren. Paul, always harping on long-suffering. I’ve no patience for it.” “Understood. I’ll read Exodus to the dust and avoid the Apostle Paul in both his pre- and post-conversion state,” I replied. “It is settled.

Aunt Eugenia sniffed, “Yes, well if you read only Exodus, I approve. But if I hear tell you’ve been spending time in the New Testament, I shall remove your Bible entirely.” “Why is that Aunt?” “Paul.” “Paul?” “Paul. Paul, with his charity above all. Paul, who feels free to chastise us all like schoolchildren. Paul, always harping on long-suffering. I’ve no patience for it.” “Understood. I’ll read Exodus to the dust and avoid the Apostle Paul in both his pre- and post-conversion state,” I replied. “It is settled.

Mr. Pierce,” I said, “I have found that on occasions of high absurdity, one either discovers a great friend or someone to never speak with again. Having now experienced a disastrous evening in Lapis Lazuli House, I leave it to you to decide which you would prefer.

Do you have an obscure fact regarding cartography that would catch the attention of a man whose only other interest is the sweet pea? I PRESUME THAT WAS A SERIOUS QUESTION? It was. THE HEREFORD MAPPA MUNDI IS ORIENTED TO THE EAST. PERHAPS A COMMENT ON THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS? IF HE IS AN ENTHUSIAST, ANY USE OF THE WORD MAPPA MUNDI SHOULD WORK IN YOUR FAVOUR. Then he sent another: FAR BE IT FROM ME TO PRY INTO YOUR PERSONAL BUSINESS, BUT ARE YOU CERTAIN THIS IS A MAN YOU WISH TO IMPRESS? I laughed. He is moneyed, with a good deal in the funds, three country estates, and would spend his life consumed by cartography and the sweet pea, thus proclaimed an eligible candidate. Alas, not for me, but my cousin, a reality I fully accept. USE THE WORD THEORY IF YOU CAN. MEN WHO THINK THEY KNOW A GREAT DEAL FIND SATISFACTION FROM THE WORD. THE VERY LITTLE I KNOW ABOUT YOUR LIFE EXHAUSTS ME.

The memory came to mind just now. And something I’ve not felt for longer than I care to admit began to take shape. That, come sunshine or cloud, I was going to be fine. More than fine. In place, and strong, and anchored in. Tonight, Islington became a stake. And Pierce. And Mary. And Saffronia. And Hawkes. All I can think of is the sound of the rain on the canopy, and everyone still smiling.

For example, why was Sarah chastised for laughing at the angel who told her she would bear a child. At ninety! I would have fallen about in absolute stitches, promise or no promise, mind you! The angel would have had to repeat himself three, possibly four, times. I know there is the business of faith in God’s promises, and believing angels is wise to do, but I feel there was some justifiable amusement to be had.

Miss Lion, I take this opportunity to tell you that I know somewhat of your situation. Your cousin—” “Archibald?” “Yes. He does not often come to Sunday service, but for some reason, he believes the Anglican church has a confession.” “How very Catholic of him.” Hawkes’s smile was like the flicker of a candle. “Yes. And I honour it. I’ve even set up a booth in a back office for his use.” Admirably, I reined in my laugh.

At time I feel my body has betrayed the girl I was, growing past the lithe limbs hewn in independence. We are to be fit for the purposes of adulthood, I know this. Childhood anticipations are traded with the shouldering of heavier things. But these days, these stones-tossed-in-tall-grass-days, have stretched my muscles, recalled past forms, and I am remembering how it is to feel, to follow the instincts of something young yet ancient. To step outside the province of maturity and marvel.

He lifted a hand before him, half shake of a fist, half artistic passion. “If you want quality, you must work for it. You wake and you strive and you make decisions to sacrifice. An easy life will never bring the kind of satisfaction the soul craves. I despise people who lounge all day as if there weren’t more important ideas than comfort, complacency, and appetite. Stretch yourself! Be industrious! Do something!” He was perspiring, his strong grip on the words just shy of a yell. I sat agog.

I sat and let out a long slow breath. “Brave acts deserve a measure of stillness,

It leaves one feeling inside of the window, instead of outside, looking in.

I am not commanding you, rather I am establishing a benevolent dictatorship, in which a command may be given.

You are wise. Take the truth you have been given and do not mingle it with flattery and trinkets.

Against all desire, I need you to balance the table at a dinner tomorrow evening here at Spencer House. Wear your emerald green dress. Do try to be less of the attitude I found you in this afternoon.

Arabella is to be a picture." "And I the complementary but unobtrusive picture frame.

Best write it all out I suppose - exorcise the demons.

Shimmer and fire, autographing the sky with smoke.

The idea that one could live in a world where a friend would invite you to go read in another’s library feels more dream than reality. It bodes well for my life’s prospects.

It isn’t that I’m looking to become another Mrs. Morrow, but the idea of this fledgling family is…almost like watching the beginning of a story.

St. Crispian’s was out for blood, and Hawkes was going to lead the crusade.

Who the hell is Hawkes?” he asked.

How casually they spoke of what they would do, and when.

Father had meant to take me, but there is never time for what one plans to do, only what one does.

What does one with a limited library read when melancholy? One attempts to read a dozen chapters from Leviticus for perspective (I wouldn’t say Leviticus was particularly helpful), a passage of Whitman for hope (hope and impatience, more like), and a soliloquy or two by The Bard (What a piece of work is a man, indeed!) before circling back to Isaiah, if necessary. It was necessary.

Did you ever, as a child, have a vision of what you hoped your home would be?

I think about what Hawkes said those few months ago. Alchemy.” I motioned at the four of us. “It stands to reason it won’t last forever, but for now it feels like a season set apart, a foreordained— Oh, I don’t know.” Islington, relaxing into the back of the sofa, found the right phrase. “A golden age.” Now I did smile. “I’ll toast to that.” Islington reached forward for our abandoned teacups, handed me mine, then lifted his own. “To the golden age.” My cup rang against his.

It was sweet of Parian, really, and after Pierce nodded and walked through the opened door with nary a glance back, I gave Parian a small smile. He smiled in return. Who would have supposed a year ago that we would be in cahoots?

I will come out conqueror, but it will require stratagem.

You!” he pointed at Professor Fletcher. “You, you gutter-minded scoundrel. How dare you come for the robes! How dare you come for the robes!

He wasn’t happy, but I managed to get a stubborn smile when I handed him a key.

All that, and I never threw my second coin in the fountain.

The last thing I felt owed was an apology. All I could hear was thunder in my ears.

No.” Islington turned an accusing eye on me, as if one errant female is accountable for another. “She comes traipsing through the garden like an explorer searching for El Dorado.

I stared at the wrapped book in my hands. The white feather affected me more than I was willing to let on.

This is how I am now greeting all of my favourite acquaintances: “What good wind brings you here?

Mother preferred to keep our cottage a quiet, private place, and Father preferred to keep Mother delighted.

Very strange,” I answered. “True souls sometimes are.

know I have incommoded more than one person in my lifetime, and I’m convinced it’s not pleasant for them. She had my full sympathies.

part of me would rather be wrong than have it proved false.

As much as this tea would Not Be Approved Of under polite circumstance, it was such a warm, human moment.

We shared a look, one honest, bare moment of joint determination—to survive the vicissitudes mortal life affords. Namely, other people.

Would the both of you care to join us for tea?” I managed, as one should ask when the world is ending.

I’ve stood just now and thrown an apron over Islington, A Portrait of. He was beginning to nose about, and I could feel a remonstration coming.

Having washed my face, I looked in the mirror, searching for the inch of added light I’d promised myself. It was there. Winter come and gone in my life, spring ahead.

YOU’RE THE TOKEN RABBLE-ROUSER.

was Hawkes who gave voice. “Alchemy.” I shivered. That mythical pursuit that turns disparate