She was one of those Southerners who were aware from an early age that the South could never be more for them than a fragrant prison, administered by a collective of loving but treacherous relatives.

He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not   drunk ink; his intellect is not replenished; he is   only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts.  (Shakespeare, Love's Labor's Lost, IV)

Revelation can be more perilous than Revolution.

You have given us a part in a story the bards will sing to our children's children.

Written By Jacqueline Carey

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