Quotes from Connie Brockway

The knowledge that she was needed by something living, that she could benefit another creature, produce happiness, or contentment, or just a feeling of security--somehow it filled a part of her as nothing else had.

The lower your decolletage, the less the need for conversation.

She clutched the train ticket tighter and waited for the sense of escape to come over her as it had a dozen times before, that heady sensation of having just scooted through the clanging gate, of eluding the thrown net. It didn't come. She was running again, but she wasn't escaping. She'd been chased to ground a long, long time ago.

There are moments on stage when everything comes together. Then the kid in the front row coughs.

He loved but he did not know how to be loved.

Do you gamble, Captain MacNeill?" "Never, sir." "No?" the marquis looked surprised. "Thought you soldiers were all inveterate gamblers." "Only with our lives, sir. Never had anything else I could afford to lose.

As a gentleman- assuming you still have some pretensions in that direction- of honor- again, perhaps presumptuous, but still supposing your passing acquaintance with the concept- it is your duty- I won't even trouble to speculate here, but remain naively hopeful- to protect those under your care.

Who of us would have ended up where we are if someone hadn't had the good sense to interfere with us?

The heart doesn't ask permission. It is singularly unconcerned with the qualifications of those it chooses to love. It mocks the intellect, it subjugates reason, and it holds hostage the will to survive.

Without remorse she gave good-bye to her fantasies. They'd served their purpose, they'd awoken her heart to its potential. But as far as using them as a template for her life ...

He wanted her. Her. Nothing could take that away from her. Ever. He wanted her, not the status he thought her purloined name could bring him

Ignorance is never better. I may not like what I learn, but I would rather know the truth than naively give credence to something that does not exist.

Some days you're the cockroach, some days you're the boot heel.

Did you think I wouldn't know you? That I don't carry the imprint of you burned into my skin?" he demanded in a low, furious voice.

Passion is tragedy-in-waiting

Anyway, as I was saying, I don't know about you, Granddad, but I come from a long line of"—her gaze flicked through the open door into the room behind—"fishermen, who taught me that whilst I wasn't ever to think I was better than anyone else, I should always keep in mind that I was just as good.

You are my country, Desdemona." Yearning, harsh and poignant, and she felt herself swaying toward him. "My Egypt. My hot, harrowing desert and my cool, verdant Nile, infinitely lovely and unfathomable and sustaining.

Robin had never been in love before, which is precisely how he recognized the sensation with such absolute certainty.

Resist demonstrating that your worldliness was more fiction than fact," he whispered. "You, Lady Agatha, in the common parlance with which you are so fascinatingly familiar, 'ain't so tough.

S]he hardly deserved to be labeled a witch.' 'I find it hard to believe anyone could take such a thing seriously. This isn't the Dark Ages.' 'All ages are dark, Hayden,' Grey said gently.

I've thought of a reason," Kit MacNeill said

she was as unused to seeing tenderness in a man's eyes as she was to being caught off guard. Admiration? Amusement? Yes. Even desire. But those looks could be leveled at any inanimate object: a beautiful painting, a political cartoon, a French postcard. Tenderness was far more intimate, reserved for beings, not things.

Another suitor you failed to mention?" he asked, only half in jest. Her eyes widened innocently, she started to shake her head - and froze. "Look mister," Jim said tiredly. "I don't know who you are, and I don't care. You're too damn old for her-" "Hi, Daddy.

If it's got a beard or a battery, you're going to have trouble with it.