Amy Snow

We can’t hold onto things. Time is like the river. It carries us off, and faster than we would like, most often.

But love is not comprised of words, pretty though they are to hear. It is comprised of the choices you make in every moment.

It is extraordinary how the human mind sees what it anticipates and is blind to anything that could not be dreamed of.

It was the kind of day that glittered and beckoned like a foretaste of heaven. The snow no longer fell, but lay thick and silver-white on the ground. The sun dazzled and the sky was a rich, celestial blue. On such a day as this, the whole world might change.

The wind whispered secrets in its own incomprehensible language.

It is intention and orientation of the heart [...] that matters most.

Disseminating knowledge is the human duty, sharing it about so that all can benefit.

Spring is not yet here, but the song of a solitary, pioneering blackbird when I wake, the smell of something warm and floral on the air in fleeting moments, these signs give me hope.

Thank you, I am well, certainly, and I have found more happiness in the last months than I ever hoped I might.

But the beauty of impossible dreams is that they are impossible- the hows and whens don't really matter.

become great friends with Grandmother.’ Mrs Nesbitt informs me, in her sweet, winsome way, that it is extremely important for a woman in her position to have her own life and her own circle of friends. She would not, she adds, be averse to marrying again.

you. It kept her so busy while she was here. The

You find your refuge in conventions and tell yourself that the bargains you have struck are morally sound, because they are socially sanctioned. Only the weak require such a refuge.

as though reading my mind. ‘Everything different

ultimate demonstration of Constance’s taste for the

that. I had a fever upon me to grab any opportunity that came my way and consequences be damned. But there was another reason for my fervent resolve – one that I have never told you. I shall do so now.

Like Aurelia, he is a lover of humanity in all its quirks and foibles, quick to delight and slow to judge.

At last an energetic reel defeats me. I cannot keep

determined set to his chin . . . all so

Although the deepest of snow in living memory lay upon the ground, the sun was shining and Aurelia breathed easiest out of doors. The four walls of any given room could not give her the horizons she longed for - horizons she could measure with her eyes and strive to conquer with her own two legs. She was like a wild animal, Cook always said.

familiar; she must be a neighbour of the Wisters, I muse, as Mrs Nesbitt runs on: ‘There is her sister Meribelle, never married. Unsurprising. She’s a dear girl but has the gift of

believes, and you implied, that I am a . . . I am a .