Quotes from Rosamunde Pilcher

The past is another country.

ramp, it's one of the social graces.

you've got enough

black-and-white, so it was no

Laurence Binyon. He was Poet Laureate at the end of the Great War. He wrote it." "What did he write?" "They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

how perfect it would be if sleep could not only restore one but iron out all anxieties in the same process, so that one could wake with a totally clear and untroubled mind, as smooth and empty as a beach, washed and ironed by the outgoing tide. But

and he had been part of her life long before he became the whole of it.

Antony was neat-fingered and had obviously done this thing many times before, but still indulged in a good deal of cursing and bad language before the new bow and a few arrows were finally done.

Self-reliance has nothing to do with selfishness Ã¢â'¬Â¦ it's simply a well that doesn't run dry until the day you die and you don't need it any more.

I get good marks at school, so I am not stupid. If I don't assert myself a bit, nobody else is going to. I have to assert myself by reasoned conversation, not sulks.

the memory of other laughter, and the unexpected ecstasies and physical joys that happen, perhaps, only once in any person's lifetime. It was good. And nothing good is ever

well-to-do, well-groomed, well-bred, and

As soon as you went through the door for the first time, you got the feel of the atmosphere, and so discovered something about the personalities of the people who lived there.

I'm fourteen now, and sometimes I feel I've done nothing except go to school.

The money you give away while you're alive is worth twice what you leave when you die.

She believed, of course ... because without something to believe in, life would be intolerable.

It was good, and nothing good is truly lost. It stays part of a person, becomes part of their character. So part of you goes everywhere with me. And part of me is yours, forever

She remembered him smiling, and realized that time, that great old healer, had finally accomplished its work, and now, across the years, the face of love no longer stirred up agonies of grief and bitterness. Rather, one was left feeling simply grateful. For how unimaginably empty the past would be without him to remember.

Happiness is making the most of what you have, and riches is making the most of what you've got.

It was good and nothing good is ever lost.

Life is sweet. . . Beyond the pain, life continues to be sweet. The basics are still there. Beauty, food and friendship, reservoirs of love and understanding. Later, possibly not yet, you are going to need others who will encourage you to make new beginnings. Welcome them. They will help you move on, to cherish happy memories and confront the painful ones with more than bitterness and anger.

And the wicked thing is, that when we're really upset, we always take it out on the people who are closest and whom we love the most.

Alone. She realized how much she had missed the luxury of solitude, and knew that its occasional comfort would always be essential to her. The pleasure of being on one's own was not so much spiritual as sensuous, like wearing silk, or swimming without a bathing suit, or walking along a totally empty beach with the sun on your back. One was restored by solitude. Refreshed.

Life is so extraordinary. Wonderful surprises are just around the most unexpected corners.