Quotes from Lauren Willig

True friendship isn't abstaining from hurting one another, but forgiving each other when you do.

Love is supposed to ennoble the soul, not degrade it.

If you want to be loved, don't take on responsibility.

sprinkling the old parquet floor with boracic acid for dancing.

Love. Such a mild term for such a destructive force.

He appreciated her as a companion; he admired her as a comrade; he wanted her as a lover. All innocuous enough each on its own. Put together . . . Christ. What a coil.

His father clasped his shoulders, holding him at arm's length, looking him up and down. "You've grown." "It's been eleven years," said Jack numbly. "Of course I've grown.

That was the thing about polish. It might be pretty, but it was fundamentally obstructive, deflecting scrutiny, masking honest emotion. If she

I won't do you the injustice of asking you to take my word. Words are cheap.

creeping dread that comes when you know you've been in the wrong and have no idea how to make it right again, because you weren't aware of having done anything wrong in the first place.

arrived. She settled herself on

he just didn't want to share him with anyone. Ever. She wanted to be the person his eyes sought out in a crowded ballroom, the person he nudged when he had a really smashing joke he just had to tell, the first person he saw when he woke up in the morning, and the last person he spoke to when he went to bed at night. She wanted to be the one whose ear he whispered in at the opera, and the one perched next to him in his alarmingly tottery phaeton when he drove in the park at five.

What a very odd thing,' said Janie, 'to live and leave no mark.

She could only hold on to her husband with both hands and promise herself that the best way to keep someone was to let him go.

If, said Jane, ignoring him as only Jane dared, someone were to speak to her; if someone were to suggest . . . Ah. Vaughn's lips compressed, as the whole fiasco suddenly fell into place. That's what you want of me. To play Hermes for you. We can't all be Zeus, Jane said apologetically. Prolonged exposure to Jane was enough to make anyone take to Bacchus. I'm afraid I've left my winged shoes at home.

Happiness isn't a gift you can give. It's a task you work on together.

myself in love with her,' he repeated

If you'd like to sit here and fume about Dempster or whatever else it is that's eating at you, I said, warming to my theme, feel free to go right ahead. I'll just head off home and spend the evening watching the snooker championships. It's not snooker season, actually, offered Colin, in a conciliatory way. Fine. Darts, then. Envisioning them thrown at my head? he asked ruefully. Despite myself, I smiled back. We were getting there.

If you don't like the teaching and you don't like the research – why are you doing this?" "Because it's what I thought I wanted six years ago." … Behind him, I could see my bookshelves, crammed with monographs and reference works, all the effluvia of the last six years. "If I don't do this, what do I do?"(437-438)

It's a virtue to know one's own heart and mind. It saves a lot of bother and a great deal of unhappiness.

men of their generation, quick to see a slight, quick to draw their swords. But a dawn affair of honor was

The history of Courcelles is one well known within the annals of chivalry. Across these fields the Merovingian kings fought their battles. From this castle did the Lord of Courcelles sally forth on Crusade with his retinue of knights. And it was here, as legend has it, that the Demoiselle of Courcelles, the first of that name, Lady Melisande, brought the blessed Dame of Orleans, none other than Jeanne d'Arc, and besought her lord to follow the saint into battle for the glory of France.

This, thought Charlotte despairingly, was the problem with the world outside the cover of a book. She couldn't craft Robert's dialogue for him, putting the words she wanted to say into his lips. She couldn't control the direction of his emotions. All she could do was attempt to discipline her own.

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without deeds do not to heaven go.