The story of Hester Bevins is as old as sin, but sin is just a little younger than love, and often the two are interchangeable.
Watching each city-bound train like an exile gazing after a caravan to freedom...
– Well, you look darn good to me in your little gingham dresses!
– That's just the trouble, Jerry. What satisfies you would never satisfy me... I guess. I've got a crepe-de-chine soul...
In the gloaming, oh! My darling, when the lights are dim and low, and the quiet shadows falling, softly come and softly go. When the winds are sobbing faintly with a gentle unknown woe, will you think of me and love me, as you did once long ago?
In the gloaming, oh! My darling, think not bitterly of me! Though I passed away in silence, left you lonely, set you free! For my heart was crushed with longing, what had been could never be! It was best to leave you thus, dear, best for you and best for me.
To say goodbye is to die a little.
New York meant everything to Hester; but to New York, Hester was only an unreckoned drop of its life-blood – Youth.
The longer conscience sleeps, the louder it speaks when it wakens.
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