Quotes from Julia Quinn

Francesca não precisava amá-lo. Mas tinha de se sentir livre. Livre para ser feliz. Porque se não estivesse feliz... Bem, 'isso' o mataria. Podia viver sem o seu amor, mas não sem a sua felicidade.

He was trying not to grin, but it was exceedingly difficult with Lady Penwood gasping like a fish on land.

I wasn't in any danger," Henry said quickly. "Dunford likes to exaggerate." "He does?" Alex asked, raising his brows. "He was very anxious," she told him, then turned to Emma as if she had to explain. "He gets very anxious." "Anxious?" Emma echoed. "Dunford?" Alex asked at the very same time. "You must be joking," Emma added, in a tone that suggested there could be no other possible alternative.

Oh, go right ahead,' she replied. 'You seem to have such an affinity for canines.' 'Clearly,' he shot back, keeping his voice low so that Mary could not hear, 'they are not so different from women. Both breeds hang on my every word.

She'd spent seven long years without so much as a hug, and she was starved for physical affection. She had known what it was like to be touched and kissed, and she had no idea how much she'd missed it until that very moment.

Everything tastes better with quite a lot of butter." "We

I don"t know what to say," she whispered. "Normally, I"d advise "thank you," but as I am the one thanking you, a mere "You are a prince among men" would suffice.

You're twisting my words." "I think you are doing a fine job of twisting them yourself.

You may love me more, but I will love you better.

She didn"t like to be thwarted, and she certainly did not enjoy admitting that she might not be able to arrange her world—and the people inhabiting it—to her satisfaction.

It was so strange how someone could love another person so much and so well but still not understand what made her happy.

It had been the oddest sensation when she'd met him, almost as if she were a jagged puzzle piece finally finding its mate.

He rolled his eyes. Why was he surprised about anything having to do with her? Of course she'd be able to lift a large stone. She was Henry. She could probably lift him.

I've always thought that violet ribbons look especially nice with brown hair.

She was married now, and suddenly she understood what it was her mother had been trying so hard to tell her on her wedding night. Marriage was about compromise, and she and Phillip were very different people. They might be perfect for one another, but that didn't mean they were the same. And if she wanted him to change some of his ways for her, well then, she was going to have to do the same for him.

He knew her, he realized. He truly knew her. Not just the usual things. In fact, he didn't know the usual things. He did not know her favorite color. Nor cold he guess her favorite animal or food. But somehow it didn't matter if he didn't knw if she preferred pink or blue or purple or black. He knew her heart. He wanted her heart.

Yes?" "When you said you weren't angry..." "Yes?" "Were you?" "I was rather annoyed," he admitted. "But not angry?" She sounded as if she didn't believe him. "Believe me, Henry, when I get angry, you'll know." "What happens?" His eyes clouded over slightly before he answered. "You don't want to know." She believed him.

Isn't it nice to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?

Isn't it nice," the older lady said, leaning in so that only Penelope could hear her words, "to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?

He didn't know if there was a word to describe what he felt in that moment, how he saw the lines of his own heart when her eyes met his.

You're a bundle of questions this afternoon, aren't you?" "I wouldn't have to be," she retorted, clearly regaining her wits, "if you'd actually say something of substance." "Until next time, Miss Bridgerton," he murmured, slipping out into the hall. "But when?" came her exasperated voice. He laughed all the way out.

People are like fine wines. If they start off good, they only get better with age.

You'll marry the earl and carry on with the nephew on the side." "Grandmother!

Edmund Bridgerton had died at the age of thirty-eight. And Anthony simply couldn't imagine ever surpassing his father in any way, even in years.