He shakes his head. ‘You’ll live.’ He once thought it himself, that he might die of grief: for his wife, his daughters, his sisters, his father and master the cardinal.  But the pulse, obdurate, keeps its rhythm.  You think you cannot keep breathing, but your ribcage has other ideas, rising and falling, emitting sighs.  You must thrive in spite of yourself; and so that you … Continue reading Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel