Rainshadow Road

What did you do with memories, feelings, needs, that didn't belong anywhere?

A butterfly symbolized acceptance of each new phase in life. To keep faith as everything around you changed.

"Thank you. But I can't take you up on that." She went to her bike, raised the kickstand, and swung her leg over.
"Why not?"
"The guy who just broke up with me, he was exactly like you, in the beginning. Charming, and nice. They're all like you in the beginning. But I always end up like this. And I can't do it anymore."

"If it weren't for public transportation," Sam said, "my brother wouldn't be getting married today. He and Maggie fell in love along the ferry route from Bellingham to Anacortes, which brings to mind the old saying that life is a journey. Some people have a natural sense of direction. You could put them in the middle of a foreign country and they could find their way around. My brother is not one of those people." Sam paused as some of the guests started laughing, and his older brother gave him a mock-warning glance. "So when Mark by some miracle manages to end up where he was supposed to be, it's a nice surprise for everyone, including Mark." More laughter from the crowd. "Somehow, even with all the roadblocks and detours and one-way streets, Mark managed to find his way to Maggie." Sam raised his glass. "To Mark and Maggie's journey together. And to Holly, who is loved more than any girl in the whole wide world."

The Da Vinci Code

Men go to far greater lengths to avoid what they fear than to obtain what they desire.

By its very nature, history is always a one-sided account.

Telling someone about what a symbol means is like telling someone how music should make them feel.

These books can't possibly compete with centuries of established history, especially when that history is endorsed by the ultimate bestseller of all time." Faukman's eyes went wide. "Don't tell me Harry Potter is actually about the Holy Grail." "I was referring to the Bible." Faukman cringed. "I knew that."

History is always written by the winners. When two cultures clash, the loser is obliterated, and the winner writes the history books-books which glorify their own cause and disparage the conquered foe. As Napoleon once said, 'What is history, but a fable agreed upon?'

One Dance With A Duke

I was afraid. Of getting hurt in other ways. To be truthful, I still am."
His thumb stroked her cheek. "I would never hurt you."
"I don't think you can promise me that." She squeezed his bruised fingers. "But it makes things a bit more equal, to know that I can hurt you, too."
His gaze fell to her lips. He said simply, without any trace of irony, "You are killing me."

"Proper handling of a horse like this is no simple matter. He was trained to race, from birth. Not only to race, but to be the best. Once a champion, he was spoiled with attention and permissive handling. Add to that, he's an ungelded male, with a strong natural mating drive. It all adds up to a horse with a mile-wide streak of arrogance, bloody bored out of his mind. Without proper exercise and opportunities to mate, all that aggressive energy festers. He becomes moody, intractable, withdrawn, destructive."

Ashworth raised an eyebrow at Bellamy. "Is it just me, or is this conversation becoming uncomfortably personal?"
Spencer fumed. "I'm not referring to myself, you ass.

"You are a sweet man."
-God, there it is." He flopped back on the bed, as if shot through the heart. "Repeat that to anyone, and I will have you brought up on charges of slander."
"I wouldn't dream of telling a soul."

"Forgive me for speaking frankly, but after the past quarter-hour's conversation, I am unconvinced that any of you possess the sense or sensitivity to impart the news in any respectful fashion"

The Many Sins Of Lord Cameron

No one had explained to Cameron when he was twenty years old and proud as hell that he'd managed to get his wife with child, how difficult it would be to raise a son. Nannies and tutors and schools were supposed to do that, weren't they?
But sons needed so much more than food, clothing, and tutoring. They expected fathers to know things, to teach them about life, to be there when needed.

To Scotland, With Love

"For a real knight, rescuing maidens would be an everyday event."
...
"Perhaps a true knight saves himself for the right maiden"

I dinna think tis romantic when a man says he's willin' t' give his life fer the woman he loves. Give me instead a man who'd fight to keep us both alive and kickin'! There's naught rommantic about a dead man, beau or no.

"Gregor, have you ever been in love?"
"No, I've never been that foolish."

This is the woman I'm t' marry! Where have ye been all me life, me love?"
And without a blink, I replied, "Don't start with me, ye scoundrel! If ye come with an empty purse, ye can leave now, fer I'd rather be unwed than unfed.

Oh, he rarely gets angry. But he is perpetually irritated.

"He can cook?"
"In a manner of speaking," Mrs. Treadwell said, cheerfully.
"What manner of speaking is that?"

hmmm. Didn't they say a man's feet echoed the size of his manhood? Of its own accord, her gaze darted up Gregor's leg to where his deliciously tight breeches caressed his-
"Knife."
She blinked,  her gaze jerking up to his face, her skin flushing. Please, God, don't let him know what I was thinking.
"Knife." he said again.
"Knife?" she repeated dumbly.
"Good god, Oglivie. I will need a knife if I'm to cut these vegetables.
Gregor lifted the knife and slammed it down. The tops of the carrot rolled across the table, some hitting the floor.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm chopping carrots."
"Gregor, they are carrots! not tree branches."
"I fail to see the difference."

There is nothing shameful in wanting, Venetia. There's only shame in not getting.

"She also mentioned how close my balcony was to yours; so close that even an old lady like herself could leap between the two without the least effort."
Venetia's cheek heated and she pulled her night gown closer, "Grandmama is anything but subtle."
"Almost as subtle as your mother."
"Oh no! Not mama too."
...
"Your mother was concerned I might be afraid of heights. She told me if she were thinking of jumping between the balconies and couldn't bring herself to make the leap, it might be possible to pick the lock on the connecting door with, say, a cravat pin.

A Kiss At Midnight

A lady should never feel anxious about her behavior. The status is bred in the bone. To show anxiety is to lower oneself. Anxiety is vulgar.

Lady Isabella's Scandalous Marriage

I loved and adored you, but I drained you like a thirsty man at a spring. I loved what you could give me - your admiration, your acceptance, your love, your forgiveness.  I forgot to love you for yourself.

Marry in haste, Repent at leisure.

"You are in no position to make threats to me."
"I don't have to be. Even if you shoot me, you can be sure you'll never get away from Hart. He's a fucking obsessed bastard, and he's touchy about people harming his sisters-in-law. You will be praying to have me alive once Hart is on your trail."

Dearest Mac,
I love you. I will always love you.
But I can live with you no longer. I've tried to be strong for you, for three years I have tried. I have failed. You tried to remake me in your image, dear Mac, and I tried to be what you wanted, but I no longer can. I am sorry.
I want to write that my heart is breaking, but it is not. It broke some time ago, and I have just now realised that I can leave me heartbreak behind and go on.
The decision to live without you was a painful one and not lightly made. I realise you can legally cause me much harm for taking this step, and I ask you, for the love we once shared, not to. It could be that I will not need to leave forever, but I know that I need time apart, alone, to heal.
You have explained that you sometimes leave me for my own good, so I will have a chance to recover from life with you. Now I am doing the same, leaving so that both of us have a chance to breath, a chance to cool. Living with you is like being with a shooting star, one that burns so brightly that it scorches me. And I am watching the star burn out. In the end, Mac, I fear there will be nothing left of you.
I know you will be angry when you read this, because you can grow so angry! But when you stop being angry, you will realize that my decision is sound. Together, we are destroying each other. Apart, I can remember my love for you. But you are burning me. You have exhausted me, and I have nothing left to give.
Ian has agreed to bring this letter to you, and he will inform me of what steps you decide to take. I trust Ian to help us through. Please do not try to seek me yourself.
I love you, Mac. I will always love you.
Please be well.

Isabella