There Were Few Things Worse Than Being

A Man Bumps Me On His Busy Way Without So Much As An Apology. But That Is All Right. I Forgive You, Busy Man About Town With The Sharp Elbows. Hail And Farewell To You! For I, Gemma Doyle, Am To Have A Splendid Christmas In London Town. All Shall Be Well. God Rest Us Merry Gentlemen. And Gentlewomen.

To Live Is To Love, To Love Is To Live.

She Loved Attention. It Was Like A Glass Of The Best Champagne—bubbly And Intoxicating—and As With Champagne, She Always Wanted More Of It. Still, She Didn’t Want To Seem Like An Easy Mark. “if You Must Know, I’ve Come To Join A Convent,” Evie Said, Testing Him.

And For A Moment, I Understand That I Have Friends On This Lonely Path; That Sometimes Your Place Is Not Something You Find, But Something You Have When You Need It.

Without Further Warning, The Sky Opens Up And Cries.