Lo

“One benefit of being an old woman now, and moreover one who has been called a "national treasure," is that there are very few who can tell me what I may and may not write.”
― Marie Brennan, A Natural History of Dragons

“But my desire for knowledge was stronger than my religious sensibilities, which after all were more a matter of unthinking habit than real conviction.”
― Marie Brennan, A Natural History of Dragons

“Another thing to study," Natalie said, amused. "Will you ever be done?"

I smiled into the sun, one hand holding my bonnet against the firm grasp of the wind. "I should hope not. How dreadfully tedious that would be.”
― Marie Brennan, The Tropic of Serpents

“When people speak of the tragedies in my life, they ordinarily mean the deaths. Not only Jacob. But all those around me who have perished. Whether in direct consequence of danger or simple misfortune and the passage of time after our friendships have formed. At times though I think these partings should be accounted as highly, if only in the ledger of my own sorrow. Akinimanbi did not die on a Lebane spear, but I never saw her again after leaving for the Great Cataract. In that sense I lost her as thoroughly as if she had died. So it was with Yeyuama as well. I only saw Faj Rawango once more, years later. And although Galinke corresponded with me, we could not be friends the way we might have been had we dwelt in the same land. So it has been, again and again throughout my life, as I form connections with people and then lose them to distance and time. I mourn those losses, even when I know my erstwhile friends are safe and happy among their own kin. But the only way for me to avoid such losses, would be to stay home. To never journey beyond the range of easy visitation. As my life will attest, that is not a measure I am willing to take. Nor would I forgo the pleasures of my transient friendships if I could. So we made our farewells, packed our things, and boarded a steamship in the harbor of Nsebu. Much browner, thinner and more worn than it had been when we arrived, we made our way back to Scirland.”
― Marie Brennan, The Tropic of Serpents