She had discovered that her love of knowing was not unnatural or sinful but the direct consequence of a God-given ability to reason.

Heed my words, daughter, if you ever mean to be happy: Never give yourself to a man.

Why, she wondered, do we always reserve our worst hatred for our own?

It was a child’s awareness, never spoken or even fully acknowledged, but deeply felt.

Shattered by the cumulative effect of so much horror and death, Joan was again afflicted by a crisis of faith. How could a good and benevolent God let such a thing happen? How could He...

There was always a way, when one knew what one wanted.

This was the price for the the strange life she had chosen, but she had gone into it with eyes open, and there was no profit in regret.

Is it not lack of faith that leads men to fear the scrutiny of reason? If the destination is doubtful, than the path must be fraught with fear. A robust faith need not fear, for...

But she had known, better than anyone else, what demons he had faced, had known how hard he had fought to free himself from them. That he had lost the fight in the end made...

Who was to know what went on in a person’s heart? A wise woman kept her own counsel.

She did not care about anything very much. Hope was gone. She existed that was all.