The Briar Club

by Kate Quinn

and then the whole room was full of the Briarwood women, all gulping sun tea and munching cookies as they watched the light gleam off President Truman’s glasses.

“I make it a policy never to believe more than a third of what men tell me,”

it’s times of crisis that produce the best parties.

“People want things, they’re going to get them no matter what the law says.

“You can’t put yourself over the law that way.” “You say that like the law is never wrong.”

We’re the country who said, ‘Here we are; let’s live by these principles and keep getting better at living up to them.’”

“I do like a man who lets himself out without leaving a mess behind,” Grace mused.

Nations tend to begin with violent men.” “They do not—”

“I’m not saying it’s right, breaking the law, but some of those that do are better men than those frauds in double-breasted suits who don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t gamble, but wouldn’t give you a dime out of their pocket or a minute of their time. Just because a man ain’t lawful don’t mean he can’t be good. And vice versa.”

Life wasn’t going to coddle most people in a cork-lined room while they worked out their demons.

She was trying to deflate the tension in the room,

“Whatever it is that’s eating you up . . . It’ll poison whatever time you’ve got left, if you aren’t careful.” She took up the brush, reached for the primer. “Let it go.”

Fliss felt a moment’s dizzy exhaustion coupled with a sincere desire to reach out and tip the nearest tray of coffee cups to the ground just to hear it all go smash,

I never fainted at a needlestick in my life, she thought. Why do I say these things?

“A lady at a ballpark alone may be exposed to rougher elements of society—” he began.