Silence For the Dead

by Simone St. James

Selfishness is pre-eminently a defect which disqualifies a woman from the nursing profession. —Eva Luckes, Matron of London Hospital, 1880–1919

The quiet fell like a blanket.

Being afraid like that made you understand, as you moved through the world of men, just how very afraid you should be. But I found in that moment that my fear had an edge to it. It came, perhaps, from a thin slice of anger.

Books were a means to an end, even novels; for the more a person knew, the less she could be taken in.

I’d never had much education, but education, in my experience, was no match for doggedness. If I wanted to learn something, I was capable of studying it in a book until I understood it, no matter how long it took. In the end it was a matter of winning over the words that refused to obey, of comprehending them through sheer determination.

We don’t want to lose you but we think you ought to go, For your King and your country both need you so. We shall want you and miss you, But with all our might and main, We shall cheer you, thank you, kiss you, When you come back again. —“Your King and Country Want You,” 1914

There was silence from the bottom of the stairs, a waiting silence, of something patiently watching me come closer, something with all the time in the world.

That spot outside the library, you know. That seems to be the spot they go to. The last one had stolen a blade.

My mind was very good at this, at moving my hands and feet and working while the rest of me shut down. My life, for a short time, was happening to someone else, and so I got through one moment, and then another, and then another.

Sometimes putting yourself first was the only thing you could do.

In order to win, you just have to know more than your opponent does.

“Coldhearted or dead, Jack,” I said. “Everyone has to choose sometime.”

man fighting for his sanity had the energy only for the simple tasks of his daily life. Friendship was a luxury.