The prospect of an early death sits differently upon each person. In some it gifts maturity far outweighing their age and experience: calm acceptance blossoms into a beautiful nature and soft countenance. In others, however, it leads to the formation of a tiny ice flint in their heart. Ice that, though at times concealed, never properly melts. Rose, though she would have liked to be one of the former, knew herself deep down to be one of the latter.

You make a life out of what you have, not what you're missing.

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but little girls usually fared much better.

Even the most pragmatic person fell victim at times to a longing for something other.

Photographs force us to see people before their future weighed them down, before they knew their endings.

So much in life came down to timing.

The stretch of years leaves none unmarked: the blissful sense of youthful invincibility peels away and responsibility brings its weight to bear.