Alison Bahmüller

“For every wound, the ointment of time.”
― Sharon Kay Penman, When Christ and His Saints Slept

“I’ll admit that my garden now grows hope in lavish profusion, leaving little room for anything else. I suppose it has squeezed out more practical plants like caution and common sense. Still, though, hope does not flourish in every garden, and I feel thankful it has taken root in mine.”
― Sharon Kay Penman, The Reckoning

“What shall we drink to, Ned? To England?"

"I've a better thought than that. It is not precisely the season for it, with Epiphany still four days hence, and I daresay our lady mother would never forgive me for saying it! But blasphemy or not, I think it fitting, nonetheless."

He touched his cup to the one Richard now held. "To the Resurrection," he said.”
― Sharon Kay Penman, The Sunne in Splendour

“This arrogant, perfumed young noble, in his rustling silks and polished lamellar armour, knew nothing of the hardships of war.”
― David Pilling, Flame of the West