Jem was safe from her, and he would ride away with a song on his lips and a laugh at her expense, forgetful of her, and of his brother, and of God; while she dragged through the years, sullen and bitter, the stain of silence marking her, coming in the end to ridicule as a soured spinster who had been kissed once in her life and could not forget it.
Daphne du MaurierNo, Mary had no illusions about romance. Falling in love was a pretty name for it, that was all.
Daphne du MaurierHe stole horses' you'll say to yourself, 'and he didn't care for women; and but for my pride I'd have been with him now.
Daphne du Maurier