I want more from life than that and I have more to give.
God help me if I ever injure my back," Clayton quipped. "God help you if you ever turn it," Whitney snapped, "for there'll surely be some heartbroken papa or cuckolded husband ready with a knife--if I don't murder you first.
Do you know why I married you, Philip?" "Presumably you wanted the financial security and social prestige I could offer." She chuckled at that and shook her head..."I believed," she confessed somberly, "I honestly believed that I had something to offer you too--something you needed. Do you know what it was?" "I can't imagine." "I thought I could teach you how to laugh and enjoy life." Philip and Caroline
I do not believe that grief is ever so great that it can not be contained within.
They’re going to ask what you said. And if I tell Mr. Twindell you said heaven will be like this, he’ll be very disappointed. He’s counting, you know, on gold streets and angels and horses with wings.” “I see where that could be a problem,” Ian agreed, and he tenderly laid his hand against his son’s cheek. “In that case, you can tell him I said this is almost heaven.
Matt: I know you can cook. Meredith: What makes you so sure? Matt: Because less than an hour ago, you set me on fire.
She wept with shame for her lack of will and with fear for a love she couldn't control.
I ought to break your neck!" Clayton interrupted. Too late, Whitney realized that she shouldn't have been standing all this time on her "injured" knee. "Allow me to congratulate you on a fine day's work, Madam," he said sternly. "In less than twelve hours, you've brought Whitticomb to your side and Cuthbert to your feet.
Childhood romances always seem so real, so enduring, when we are separated from the object of our affection. But usually, when we return, we find that our dreams and memories quiet surpassed reality. -Lady Anne, Whitney's aunt
A lie is an affront to the soul, as well as an insult to the intelligence of the person to whom one lies.
Reformed rakes often make the best husbands
Don't do this to us." He warned, his voice hoarse with angry desperation as he realize he was losing her. "You're letting eleven years of mistrust color everything you've discovered I've done".
(...)Did she really tell Roddy Carstairs she could outshoot him with his own pistol?" "No," Jason said dryly. "She told him that if he made one more improper advance to her, she would shoot him- and if she missed, she would turn Wolf loose on him. And if Wolf didn't finish the job, she had every faith I would." Jason chuckled and shook his head. "It's the first time I've been nominated for the role of hero. I was a little crushed, however, to be second choice after the dog.
Love can't be forced into existence,(...)It won't come simply because you will it to happen
Which brings me to the question of why we always 'fall' in love. One falls down steps, off ladders, into rivers and down mountains. If love is so wonderful, why don't we soar in love or climb in love?
But he knew instinctively what he suggested was impossible. She'd been through so much, and held her tears back for so long, that Royce doubted that anything could force her to shed them.
God help him." He chortled. "He doesn't realize he loves her. And even if he did, he wouldn't admitted it." -Dr. Whitticomb
If I had a hundred kingdoms, I would trade them all for you, my dearest love. I was nothing until you.
Elizabeth, if you want to be kissed, all you have to do is put your lips on mine.
At my age, I regard each funeral I attend as a personal triumph, because I was not the guest of honor.
she kissed him with all the aching longing that being this close to him evoked; she kissed him in all the ways he had ever kissed her, feeling faint with joy when he began to kiss her back, his mouth moving with fierce tenderness, then opening with fiery demand over hers, until their breaths were mingled gasps, and they were straining to one another.
It would have hurt no matter who took you the first time.
Beside him a tiny elderly woman was leaning on a cane, studying him with curiosity. Since good manners seemed to require that he speak to her, Jon cast about for some sort of polite conversation pertinent to the occasion. “I hate funerals, don’t you?” He said. “I rather like them,” she said smugly. “At my age, I regard each funeral I attend as a personal triumph, because I was not the guest of honor.
I think we women underrate ourselves when it comes to our courage and strength.
Behold your new mistress, my wife," he pronounced, "and know that when she bids you, I have bidden you. What service you render her, you are rendering me. What loyalty you give or withhold from her, you give or withhold from me!" -Royce Westmoreland
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