Quotes from Mary Balogh

There is one in the drawing room," she said with

For there was no more friendship and never would be again.

He had reacted to pain and loss in a remarkably immature manner—as usual. Nothing much ever changed in his life, except the incidentals.

Pero algunas lecciones hay que aprenderlas con el corazón también para entenderlas de verdad. Es muy fácil ser madre o padre antes de tener hijos.

I kept it very quiet and very deep and very secret from all but the inner depth of my heart. I even felt ashamed of it. But I always thought of you.

And she was beginning to like him, despite everything. Perhaps she was beginning to feel a little more than liking.

The urge to reach for him, to try to somehow soothe him for the loss of a mother years and years ago was almost irresistible.

la vida, de eso va, es un viaje, y es el valor y la energía para dar siempre el siguiente y el siguiente paso sin hacer juicios acerca de qué hicimos bien o en qué nos equivocamos.

She found his coldness and his anger easier to cope with than the melancholy and near tenderness that drink had induced in him that night. It had taken all her willpower in the hours following the ball not to allow the reserve she had built around herself in six years to crumble away. But she had held on and would continue to do so, perhaps, if she could just stay away from him.

You make a joke of everything . . . It is impossible to talk to you.

I have the headache and am feeling blue-deviled.

I am exceedingly fond of her, he said. Which is not a particularly ardent thing to say, Viscount Luttrell pointed out.

He was, he realized without any real surprise, quite irrevocably in love with her. Her joy was his; her pain was his. There was no point in further denial—not to himself at least.

She had had to decide between one glorious night of love and a lifetime of friendship. She had chosen the night of love.

La sabiduría viene de la experiencia, y hasta el momento sólo tengo veintiocho años de experiencia.

Teddy. Diana floated on a cushion of fuzziness and wanted him. She wanted the terrible loneliness to go away. But Teddy was dead. He would never be there again.

She looked more fragile and more lovely than ever in the moonlight. He felt that stirring of desire he had felt the first time he had touched her and she him.

For a timeless, frozen moment their eyes met. Blank disbelief, sudden recognition, and shock flashed across his face all within seconds.

And her heart turned over at sight of Hetherington. It should get easier as time went on to face him calmly, she reasoned as she resumed her sewing. Instead, it was getting worse.

Do these people not know that civilized living ought not to start before noon or end before four in the morning?

He had paid dearly for his secrecy, for his lack of courage in coming to the point.

Los adioses, por dolorosos que sean, deben decirse. Al final de cada historia hay que escribir la palabra «Fin»

The people who have been central to our lives are always there in us and always will be, even when they are no longer alive and we are not actually thinking about them. We are fortunate if our memories of them, conscious or unconscious, are happy ones. If we know and can feel deep down inside ourselves that they loved us constantly and unconditionally.

Common sense had already told her that she must not do so. But common sense sometimes seemed a dreary taskmaster.