An indication of the “treatment” they were given is shown in Lundy’s sketches of the medicine bottles she found: mercury cyanide, mercury chloride and tincture of belladonna (deadly nightshade.) The sketches are burnt into paper with a soldering iron.
She Is Burning
Notre Dame has always seemed to me a dark, brooding and august female presence presiding over Paris.
Spring Has Sprung
I am fortunate on this visit to find the dampness of New York City a great relief after the deadly dryness and manifold allergies of the Southwest.
Tiny Little Things
The value of the collection I keep on the top of my bureau seems suddenly, mysteriously clear.
A Working River
Life is to be lived, and it is also to be walked.
Mother Mary — The Blue Box: Three Lives In Letters
Having drawn all she could from that source, desperate to go to college, for which she would have to have a scholarship (none of the women in her family had ever dreamed of college), she “dropped out” in the most literal sense, leaving not only school but her mother’s crowded household to go as a sort of nonpaying border to an exceptionally gifted playwright and producer from New York, whose influence would be supreme.
Sweet Tarts For My Sweethearts
It has been difficult, all these years, for me to say, “My teacher,” to accept with gratitude and a degree of humility that I have more to learn, and that when I’m ready to learn, the teacher will appear. Now it has happened.