She always carried a book, though, in case she needed to read a few pages to avoid unwanted conversation.

Needing and getting don’t seem likely to match up any time soon... What needs doing is mine to do.

Our worst pain is confined within our own skin.

She always carried a book, though, in case she needed to read a few pages to avoid unwanted conversation.

We are not strong enough to stand up against endless grief, And yet pain is the constant drone of life. So if we are to have any happiness at all, it is only in the passing instant.

I've never been very attached to genre labels and never set out intentionally to write historic fiction. Besides, what you consider historic depends on how far back your memory extends.

Surely it is a sin to reject the few gifts we are given. Be happy in the flash of time granted to us or hurt forever.