The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 4

by Beth Brower

“You could never do such a thing, Emma,” proclaimed Mary. “And neither could I. We’re both far too committed to hearing our own opinions.”

An appearance of pleasing stupidity prepares a woman for marriage.

“Strange is that unexpected moment that stays with you, that makes you think about it again. Strange is memorable, and compelling.”

Marge was in a room filled with costumes and girls, and when she saw me, her lips curled. “You Jack’s occasional wife?” “I beg your pardon!” was the only answer I could think of to give. “Jack has been my husband once and only once. I hardly think it merits the word Occasional.”

“You are wise in this thing. However, if the right man should come along, and money looks more like love than one would initially suppose, don’t turn your back on a chance for happiness merely because he has the means to save you.” It was the most fiscally romantic thing I had ever heard.

Is it immoral to marry a man solely to gain a library? And if that man happens to be tremendously good looking, is it more or less of a sin?

“Of course I’m coming with you. Don’t be daft. My friends do not go to war alone.”

Bless a man who knows how to keep his own counsel when you can’t bear to speak.

(There is nothing like realising one has developed a habit of drinking in front of their vicar.)

They might not be of the Old Testament variety—Pierce, Islington, and Hawkes—but whatever strange confluence of events led to them holding me up was the gentlest hand of fate I’ve ever encountered. It might even be Divine.

Well, let us hold the pass. No traitors among us.