Quotes from Jane Porter

Self-love leads men of narrow minds to measure all mankind by their own capacity.

When Alexander had subdued the world, and wept that none were left to dispute his arms, his tears were an involuntary tribute to a monarchy that he knew not, man's empire over himself.

Happiness is not perfected until it is shared.

The best manner of avenging ourselves is by not resembling him who has injured us.

To be truly and really independent is to support ourselves by our own exertions.

Imparting knowledge is only lighting other men's candles at our lamp without depriving ourselves of any flame.

Dr. Johnson has said that the chief glory of a country arises from its authors. But then that is only as they are oracles of wisdom unless they teach virtue, they are more worthy of a halter than of the laurel.

Happiness is a sunbeam, Which may pass through a thousand bosoms Without losing a particle of its original ray Nay, when it strikes on a kindred heart, Like the converged light on a mirror, It reflects itself with redoubled brightness. It is not perfected till it is shared.

Yet happiness isn't something you chase, it's something you are. It's something you think, it's something you believe.

All warfare that is not defensive is criminal.

Stop staring and call your brother', Dane snaps over his shoulder as he heads toward the stairs.

Makin, my friend, I thought you were just seeing her safely home." "I was." "What happened?" "I couldn't let her go.

It was enough that slander could ruin a woman, because her purity was the most important thing about her.

Don't live to please others. Don't think everyone else knows what's right or true. Listen to yourself, and be true to yourself. That way, no matter what else happens in life, you will always have your self-respect.

I love you more than I hate cars, so I decided I'd try to face my fears and take some risks.

Keep your eyes peeled. You might just see Christmas yet

Don't. Don't say you've changed your mind. You promised me!

Montana winters were never mild, and this winter felt even more brutal than normal. Taylor Harris sucked in a sharp breath at the blast of frigid air as she and Jane Weiss, the new director of the

Taylor had been a book lover her entire life and, even at twenty-six, loved nothing more than curling up and getting lost in a great story, reading until the early hours of the morning. So what if it meant she never got enough sleep? Books were her life, her passion.

Hope, wish, dream, need. Heartbreak, loss, pain, grief. Which was bigger, which was stronger? Love was stronger, but was there enough love here? Was there enough love to mend their hearts and make them work? How would she know? How could she know?

For someone so very good at math, it's stunning to discover how you struggle with single digits.

I've told you the truth and my name isn't Woman, it's Tally.' 'I've never heard the name Tally before. That's not a name.' A glint touched his dark eyes, something secret and perverse and then the corner of his mouth lifted, the closest thing she'd seen to a smile yet. 'I shall call you Woman.

The question shouldn't be Am I happy? but rather, Does my life have meaning? And yes, my life has meaning. I've created two children, and loving them, caring for them, and helping prepare them for life gives my life purpose.

I'm not a hermit.  I'm just an introvert, which means I like people, but I don't find parties exciting.  They tire me out—.