Quotes from Deanna Raybourn

rose in one great flap of those enormous wings and lifted itself above my head, out of reach and beyond the horizon before I realized what was happening. It was like watching a miracle of creation, and I felt no loss at its passing away from me but only joy that I had been, for however fleeting a time, connected with it.

Yes, the lad stole a fox pup but the Spartans had very strict rules against thievery. He hid the animal in his cloak, and rather than allow his misdeed to be found out, he let it gnaw out his vitals while he kept his silence." "And your point is?" he asked acidly. "Simply this: that truth is like that fox pup. If you suffer its ill effects in silence, it can do irreparable harm. Perhaps even kill you.

it was the smile that said, 'I know best. I know better than you.' The smile that said, 'I'm safe here and you're not.' The smile that said, 'I have a dick, so I win.

We are, as a gender, undereducated and infantilized to the point of idiocy. But those of us who have been given the benefit of learning and useful occupation, well, we are proof that the traditional notions of feminine delicacy and helplessness are the purest poppycock

Indiscretions that would only burden a wife. He was frequently unfaithful, and that was something I was perfectly happy to accept." "Happy!" I exclaimed. I could not imagine any woman being content to have the man she loved warming another's bed.

I think," she said gently, "you must have enough experience of the world to know better than that. There will always be men who rally to the cause of another man in his moment of disgrace simply because they fear their own so deeply.

One seldom finds something if one never actually looks for it

I am on the run for my life with a cat who hates to travel

I stared down into the opengrave and wished that I could summon a tear. Violent weeping would have been in exceedingly poor taste, but Miss Nell Harbottle had been my guardian for the whole of my life, and a tear of two would have been a nice gesture of respect

That is the essence of painting, child. To capture something utterly temporary and conjure permanence.

For all the glories I have seen, the mountains and the seas and the horizon itself, stretching to the furthest reaches of the eye, there is nothing to touch an English morning in spring.

It's a comfortable place, mediocrity. Never pushing oneself to the limit to see what you can take. Never staring down your fears, never reaching into yourself to find that last bit of courage. You don't even know what it is that you are made of

I'm not," Stoker put in. "No parson would dare be that sanctimonious. I can smell the stink of our eldest brother all over that particular remark

I gave it to him because, in my experience, it is far better to tell a man what he wants to hear and then do as you please than attempt to reason with him.

It isn't your anger that will make you good at this job. It's your joy.

how could mere lines upon a page encompass the grandeur of Cherboys? From battlements to towers, from galleried pillars to lavish parapets, it embraced every possible embellishment. Not a single enhancement had been overlooked.

I would earnestly warn you against trying to find out the reason for and explanation of everything . . . To try and find out the reason for everything is very dangerous and leads to nothing but disappointment and dissatisfaction, unsettling your mind and in the end making you miserable. —QUEEN VICTORIA TO HER GRANDDAUGHTER, PRINCESS VICTORIA OF HESSE, 22 AUGUST 1883

Please assure his lordship that I am not enjoying the fruits of connubial bliss with Stoker, nor should he expect a claim upon his fortune because I am in an indelicate condition.

Anyone can get lucky," he said coldly. "And I suspect your continued survival owes itself to a combination of good fortune and sheer bloody-mindedness. You are too stubborn to die.

Sorry for him? But Mr. Gilchrist is blessed with talent and angelic looks. He is well-connected and has a tremendous future. Why should you be sorry for him?

Lady Cordelia had been admitted on the strength of a series of papers she had written on the subject of advanced mathematics, and it was good to see that her talents—frequently wasted in arguing with Mrs. Bascombe about the grocer's bills—were once more carrying her into the circles where

berated her talent, her eye, her morals, and would no doubt have gone further had not Emma Talbot stepped forward.

I didn't go out with him again. Uncut,

It was as close as an aristocratic Englishman could come to expressing real emotion, but it was enough for the princess. She pressed his hand.