How do you feel?” she asked, trying to fluff his pillow. “Other than terrible, I mean.” He moved his head slightly to the side. It seemed to be a sickly interpretation of a shrug. “Of course you’re feeling terrible,” she clarified, “but is there any change? More terrible? Less terrible?” He made no response. “The same amount of terrible?

Love works in mysterious ways.

I vow to spend the rest of my life keeping your hands and feet warm.

But looking beautiful isn't, I think, as important as feeling beautiful.

Oh, Elizabeth," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on her mouth, "I love you so much. You must believe me." "I believe you," she said softly, "because in your eyes, I see what I feel in my heart.

Never," he spat out, "kick a man who is pointing a gun at you.

It was a damned good thing men couldn’t have children. Gregory took no shame in admitting that the human race would have died out generations earlier.