Quotes from Julie Anne Long

imagine the ton would leap from London Bridge if the marquess did it first. Mind you, he'd land on a cart carrying a feather mattress when he did it, whilst the rest of London would splatter.

Some of us walk about with the burden of old wounds. What must it be like to have the burden of…healing?

She didn't usually mind being just a bit in over her head. She generally flailed like a becalmed ship, irritable and purposeless and panicked, when things were simple.

Lyon Redmond was either a man on a pilgrimage in search of salvation, or a man out to burn on the pyre of his own love for a woman. Regardless, he still suffered.

Fear did rather play havoc with one's self of time.

What was love if not a certain pleasantly deluded familiarity built up over years?

One could tolerate an acid tongue for a time when the owner of it was so very pretty.

Because "Platitude" was a language everyone spoke

We think we're so clever. And yet we're always surprised to find ourselves entrapped or made fools of.

When and if Violet ever fell in love, lightning would split the heavens, tectonic plates would shift, continents would reorder themselves. Because she might be willful and spoiled and impetuous, but no one loved with the force of his sister. Her love story would be epic.

Your happiness, quite simply, is my happiness. Cynthia slowly closed her eyes against the look in his. Cannot bear.

Why? He sounded bemused. He'd whispered the word. She supposed he meant: why are you here? Because her mind answered with: Because I love you, and damn you for it. You have both made my life worth living and utterly ruined it, and I'm grateful that you did. She smiled faintly. She would never say it.

The stars are particularly spectacular tonight, don't you think? Dazzling. As if they've all had a good rinsing from the storm.

Have you ever been in love?" "Colin. For the love of God." "I have," he said bluntly. "And when you lose love, it tears a hole out of you. The pain can be gruesome. I thought I lost Madeline once, and I swear for a few days I thought I might never be whole again." "Perhaps you should write a poem about it. Add another verse to your song.

A girl could forget her precise location in the universe when a man looked at her with eyes like those.

Oh, God," he said softly to himself. "I knew you were trouble.

But is not one a result of the other?" she asked. "Love and loyalty? I cannot see how could you prefer one to the other.

But now he understood why someone would write things like 'she walked in beauty like the night' and so forth. Because poetry was a barrier against raw emotions. It distilled them into bearable music, allowed one to accommodate them a little at a time.

He was sardonic even in his thoughts these days.

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a woman, I put away childish things.

Maybe we're born with a full set of qualities, some fine, some not so fine, and none of us knows what will bring out everything that lives within us. And sometimes it's the fine qualities that cause us trouble, and the not so fine that save us.

Ah, Lyon: the Achilles' heel of this family. She had forgotten about Lyon, and about disappearing Redmonds.

Did that kiss nearly destroy the memory of all other kisses, and become the benchmark against which all future kisses would be measured?

i can only think god is responsible for passion,for god gives us bodies with which to express it and heart in which to hold it