The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5

by Beth Brower

The edge of life can be marked in black faster than one would suppose. Why not ring all the bells?

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

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

“He said he wished you to be wise, and good, and true to the beatings of your own heart, and hoped that you could be spared the extremes of society, both the very poor and the very rich, so that neither need nor indulgence would spoil the soul he loved more than anything else in the world.”

“I stole it,” Islington said. “That wish, that counsel. Pretending the words were spoken for me. And they have kept me on a steady path when I could have fallen into every temptation you can imagine, and some I dare say you can’t.”

That, come sunshine or cloud, I was going to be fine. More than fine.

decided positivity is the Everest of virtues. You have to not only confront the dismal realities of life but choose, ofttimes, to blatantly ignore them.

“It does. But it seems that sword pierced Christ so that we always have a future. Even one different than planned.”

“Faith in the abstract is more comfortable,” I said. I heard an amused sound, then, “It is. But I begin to suspect that faith made concrete is more comforting.”