What happened to your face?" Harriet asked. "It was a misunderstanding," Daniel said smoothly, wondering how long it might take for his bruises to heal. He did not think he was particularly vain, but the questions were growing tiresome. "A misunderstanding?" Elizabeth echoed. "With an anvil?" "Oh, stop," Harriet admonished her. "I think he looks very dashing." "As if he dashed into an anvil." "Pay no attention," Harriet said to him. "She lacks imagination.

You have to live each hour as if it's your last and each day as if you were immortal. - Kate Sheffield

I have friends who have children, and they have told me how remarkable it is to have a new life that is a piece of your own flesh anf blood. But I --" "I realized that I didn't love her because she was a piece of me, I loved her because she was a piece of you.

You are always looking at people like this.” And then she made a face, one he couldn’t possibly begin to describe. “If I ever look like that,” he said dryly, “precisely like that, to be more precise, I give you leave to shoot me.

She had been born for this man, and she had spent so many years trying to accept the fact that he had been born for someone else.

Love works in mysterious ways.

Did you know I dream about your hair? I use to say it was the color of the sun at sunset, but I'm wrong. It's brighter than the sun, just as you are.