Tears and Tragedy.

Today is the tomorrow that you worried about yesterday. Tragedy is getting something or failure to get it; it’s losing something you already have. Waste not fresh tears over old griefs.

~ Euripides

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle?

‘What can POSSIBLY be told about a life of ONLY 5 weeks?

My death from parental neglect on Christmas Day in the year 1884 would shine a harsh and uncompromising light into the darkest crevices of York’s society as the pitiful story of my life unfolded…’

The Parish Will Bury Me…

‘My Dear Sister, – By the time you get this letter I shall be in a watery grave.

Don’t upset yourself, and call and tell my dear father gently that I have only gone to my dear mother, and don’t let him call my husband.’

We Have Nothing Good Here!

‘One August day – my body and that of my youngest child were recovered from the River Ouse in York.

And a story would begin to unfold so tragic that the coroner implored the media to promote a better understanding on the subject of suicide.’