The Hand You Hold The Longest Is

You And I, We Must Carry On, Gemma. I Cannot Afford The Luxury Of Love. I Must Marry Well. And Now I Must Look After You. It Is My Duty." "if You Wish To Suffer, You Do So Of Your Own Free Will, Not On My Behalf. Or Father's Or Grandmama's Or Anyone's. You Are A Fine Physician, Thomas. Why Is That Not Enough?" "because It Isn't," He Says With A Rare Candor. "only This And The Hope Of Nothing More? A Quiet Respectability With No True Greatness Or Heroism In It, With Only My Reputation To Recommend Me. So You See, Gemma, You Are Not The Only One Who Cannot Rule Her Own Life.

...i Do Have To Wonder What Sort Of Childhood The Grimm Brothers Endured. They Are Not A Merry Bunch Of Storytellers, What With Their Children Roasted By Witches, Maidens Poisoned By Old Crones, And Whatnot.

I’m Not Interested In Being Polite. It’s False.

The World Is Only As Fair As You Can Make It. Takes A Lot Of Fight. A Lot Of Fight. But If You Stay In Here, In Your Little Cave, That's One Less Fighter On The Side Of Fair.

Goodbye," I Whisper At Last, When It No Longer Matters And There Is No One To Hear It But The Window.