You are your own worst enemy. If you can learn to stop expecting impossible perfection, in yourself and others, you may find the happiness that has always eluded you.

You're surrounded by it wherever you go, you walk through it, breathe it...it's in your lungs and under your tongue and between your fingers and toes.

You know what it is you smell on him, Haven? Testosterone. It's leaking out of his pores.

The boy heaved a sigh. "I would ask to go with you," he said, " but I have to finish my lessons. I so look forward to the day when I know everything. Then I won't have to read any more books or do any more counting." Beatrix smiled. "I don't wish to be discouraging, Rye, but it's not possible to know everything." "Mama does." Rye paused reflectively. "At least, Papa says we mus t pretend she does, because it makes her happy." "Your father," Beatrix informed him with a laugh, " is one of the wisest men I've ever known.

She was yours, if you'd truly wanted her," Harry continued, a pitiless smile touching his lips. "But I wanted her more.

He took his mouth from hers and stared down at her with eyes so dark they no longer looked blue. “Amanda, do you trust me?” “Of course not,” she said. “I don’t know the first thing about you.” Laughter rustled from his chest. “Sensible woman.

One should make the best choice possible given the circumstances, and then avoid second-guessing for the sake of one's own sanity.