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Emma M. Lion would like to dedicate these pages to those who take courage & listen for footsteps on the stairs. 🩷

Almost midnight now, my face pressed against the cool glass.

I can Almost hear them.

Footsteps on the stairs. 🥹🩷

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

"He said goodbye, and I've almost become brave enough to say it back. To see a life ahead. Even if its different from what I'd planned."

And

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

Through fire, nature is reborn whole.

"...it's easier to confess in the morning, but more beautiful to confess at dusk."

"The stars incline us they do not bind us."

And

"Will my life become more illustrious?"
"Hopefully less ridiculous."

"Tonight, Islington became a stake. And Pierc. And Mary. And Saffronia. And Hawkes.
All I can think of is the sound of rain on the canopy and everyone still smiling."

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

From the expression on Mrs. Penury's face, shr was living the life she'd always hoped for. 🤣

"Can a man not even die without a woman tracking his every move? They already outline his entire life. His mother! His sisters! And eventually, his wife! Slow suffocation by silk and taffeta is our fate." 😂

"And so, this misplaced sportsman's set about making a very small tea."

"I began to smile like an absolute fool. It felt like I hadn't in a while. Smile, that is. I'm certainly a fool on an every-other-day bases."

"Wit, thy name is woman"

"Life seems to amuse its self itself at my expense..."

😂 so true

"You like it when I complain, Emma. It gives you something to be righteous about."

Oh to have a Nial Pierce in my life.

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

"We will fight in the shade"

"That one that had been the only." 💔 This book has brought me to tears.

I could stay up reading this book all night but sadly I must go to bed

Father always liked fall best. Mother claimed it was his natural melancholy.
I don't agree. One doesn't have to prefer spring to be a contented soul.

"Women wear bustles," she snipped, as if I were a piece of thread.

"As for myself, I've no desire to hunt anything other than the sweetest of dreams."