Home > Author > Rosemary Hawley Jarman
1 " Then a soft air, a simple melody, rose to the ears of the suddenly hushed court; and for me, it was May Day again, and I was no longer cold, for the sun burned bright and the grass smelled of its sour-sweet bruisings and an old man fashioned a ballad for the Nut-Brown maid, who would ever be true to her lover. I leaned towards the brightness and, in an abandonment of joy and because there was none to see, tore off my henin and let my nut-brown hair fall to my knees. For I would be a child again, for five minutes, and remember the time when men stopped to gaze at me, with my chaplet of flowers crowning that at which they all marvelled, and longed to touch and stroke and possess. "
― Rosemary Hawley Jarman
2 " until the moon had waxed fat and thinned, and again grown heavy with the child of night, "
― Rosemary Hawley Jarman , White Rose Turned to Blood (We Speak No Treason, #2)
3 " As the last note sobbed to death, we came face to face, closer than was natural, our steps meshed in the confined space. "
― Rosemary Hawley Jarman , The Flowering of the Rose (We Speak No Treason, #1)
4 " he took my hand again, and I burned in the flame of him. "
5 " 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. "
