I raised the hood of my cape and opened my umbrella. Headmistress had given it to me for my twenty-first birthday, knowing how fond I was of the purple foxglove that bloomed in the park. When open, the underside revealed in each of the panels a spray of painted stems, lush with lavender bells. “No matter how bad the weather, you will always be able to look up and see something that will cheer you,” she had said, knowing that my quiet moods often concealed an orphan’s melancholy.

The merciful man is rarely victorious. One’s enemies are like snakes; though one may learn to handle them, they are always poisonous.

I’m afraid that the gift of visiting the past is all that we have. We can revisit it, but only as it happened.

Those on the decline always criticize those on the rise.

You cannot hide from the truth, Mina. Anytime you try to argue with the truth you lose. Anytime you try to evade it or run away from it, it will find you down the road.

I suppose that Lucy and I were worthy of the male gaze, what with her pale blond beauty shown off nicely in a peach summer frock, in contrast to my black hair set against light skin. Tonight I wore my favorite dress of pale green linen, which everyone said complemented my eyes, and a cotton bolero jacket perfect for a summer evening.

I sat down to a lavish meal of Irish stew, boiled salad with beets, celery, potatoes doused in cream sauce, haddock and rice, and a long cheeseboard piled with pungent varieties and tasty rolls. I ate with fiendish voraciousness, and slowly, my hunger subsided and my nerves calmed.

Guinevere loved Arthur until she met Lancelot. Do you not agree that it is possible to love one person but encounter another whose very soul speaks to you?

The people call it a miracle; the scientists call it invention. But the invention is miraculous, is it not?

Mother Astarte who creates and destroys. Kybele, goddess of all that is, was, and ever shall be,” he invoked.