Quotes from Sabrina Jeffries

Advising Mrs. Harris was the least I could do," David said smoothly. "After all, she was the one who brought me and my late wife together." That was stretching it a bit, since all Charlotte had done was give Sarah lessons in how to avoid fortune hunters, thus ensuring that the recalcitrant girl went right out and married the first one who approached her.

A man is what he is and no fancy lodgings or fine clothes will change that (Daniel Brennan)

And in my private life I prefer not to pass myself off as what I'm not (Daniel Brennan)

She didn't want to think about how wrong this was or how foolish it was to give herself to a known seducer. Because tonight Oliver wasn't that man. Not to her. He was the boy who'd cried over his dead mother, the young man who'd lost himself in drink and women to forget the past, the marquess who'd vowed not to marry for money. He was the man to be her lover.

Lord help her, she didn't care where Byrne took her. Let hellfire consume her and the devil steal her soul. Because any hell with Byrne in it was better than a heaven without him.

What I want," he said softly, "is you. Just you.

What offended you this time? His charming manner? His too broad smile? His well-groomed appearance?" "I don't like him," she said with her usual maddening half-smile. "Don't like him! He's fashionable and handsome, with fortune to spare" "So is my reticule. Unfortunately, it also has more personality, and nearly as much intelligence.

Believing in love isn't like believing in flying reindeer. It's like believing in rain. Or summer. Or Christmas. Love is real and steady and absolutely essential to any kind of life. Not believing in it doesn't make it any less so.

If you've learned anything from your parents, it ought to be this—love works only when it's mutual. Otherwise, eventually it becomes exactly what you call it—a meaningless word. For both parties.

I can think of only one good solution to this dilemma," Diego said, having spent the entire night developing a plan. You sneak into the school and carry her off?" Gaspar quipped. That is the not-so-good solution. And it would be very difficult to sneak into a house full of women without raising an alarm." A cloud descended on Gaspar's brow. "I was not serious. Kidnapping is not a choice.

He was thunder and lightning and rain, and she was the earth and flowers that drank up the storm.

Life is like an overgrown garden. You can spend your time cursing the weeds, or you can work to pull them out. In either case, the flowers are what matter.

I can promise that even having an imperfect one who loves you is better than having none at all.

This is how it should always be. You in my bed...in my arms. Always.

Trying to rewrite the past was a child's game, a pointless, ridiculous child's game no one ever won.

You were just too young. And in the wrong place at the wrong time in my life." "A likely excuse. I haven't been 'too young' for some time, and it's taken you nine years to even kiss me again. At this rate, you'll only advance to ravishing me when I'm forty." He dearly hoped he'd be ravishing her at forty. And thirty-five and twenty-nine and the day after tomorrow. Or today. That would certainly move his process along.

Has it ever occurred to you that married couples endure watching their spouses grow old and feeble and senile all the time? That it's part of marriage? A hard part, to be sure, but not so hard that one just gives up on the institution altogether.

So, Byrne, did you and Christabel get lost on the way down? Perhaps we should send you a floor plan for next time. The drawing room is the one that doesn't have a bed.

Much as you joke about it, it wouldn't do for anyone to find you here. My brothers are unpredictable, and Gran might just chase you around the manor with her cane.

He was as temptingly made as the first Adam must have been. God hadn't shirked his duties when creating Gideon Horn. No, indeed. In fact, she wondered if God hadn't put just a jot too much effort into it. He should have given the man something more useful than good looks and a treacherous charm. Humility, for example. She tried to imagine a humble Gideon, but it was impossible. Such a creature would be beyond even the Almighty's powers of imagination.

I need to know—" he broke off, a vulnerable expression crossing his face. "That is, I want to know whom you intend to choose.

Why would you think there was anything more between me and Mr. Pinter?" Because you blush when his name is mentioned. Because he follows you with his eyes. Because I do not know what to make of him, and that worries me.

Why didn't you tell us you were the Alexander Black who can stand atop a cantering horse and shoot a hole through a plum at a hundred paces?" With a snort, Alec jerked his gaze away. "More like a cantaloupe. The thing shrinks with every retelling. Soon they'll have me shooting at a mustard seed.

God knew she was a troublesome wench, with a tongue that could strip the barnacles off a ship's hull.