Quotes from Rosemary Hawley Jarman

until the moon had waxed fat and thinned, and again grown heavy with the child of night,

As the last note sobbed to death, we came face to face, closer than was natural, our steps meshed in the confined space.

he took my hand again, and I burned in the flame of him.

for men never know a loving woman's heart. Poor fools we are, ruled by the moon, and variable, prone to her waxing and waning, all our tides sorrow and gladness. Men never know a woman's love.