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Time was a strange thing.
“No, thank you. I’d rather choose my future as it comes to me.”
Nothing deflated hope quicker than a hopeless future.
Perhaps aging was a thing of the body and not the soul.
Why should I be sad when so much is good?
Why should I be sad when so much is good? Such a simple answer, and one Merritt wanted to cling to.
In truth, Merritt didn’t think Hulda Larkin could relax. God had made her out of steel and concrete and laced her together with thick whale-boned corsets. Something they would have to work on.
but the older you get, the more, I don’t know, afraid you become of being human.
“I don’t share your confidence. Women are so easily labeled as hysterical.”
“Goodness, Hulda. There’s a lot of sugar in this.” She shrugged. “Sugar makes sad things better.”
