Robin

“A bunch of writers in a room requires a collective noun that the English language doesn’t have. A condolence, perhaps. A sympathy. It’s a war hospital for the written word.”
― Benjamin Stevenson, Everyone on This Train Is a Suspect

“He offered her his arm and they walked down the aisle together, towards the window. His window. It showed timelessness, and recovery and hope. It didn't stop her feeling terribly for the young man in the attic room and the innocent girl in her flat, and even the other one, who suffered such terrors before she died, but it gave her the strength to walk calmly and capably back into the busy castle, where she was the center of its turning world.
In two days she and half the Household would head back to London to prepare for the State Opening of Parliament. Life very much went on. One did what one could. Right now, it was absolutely time for a little gin.”
― S.J. Bennett, The Windsor Knot

“But what you think you want and what you actually do when life offers you something else are not necessarily the same thing.”
― Nikki Knight, Wrong Poison

“Funeral homes are a lot like libraries, only not fun, so the loud expression of sympathy split the air like a shot.”
― Nikki Knight, Wrong Poison