I'll tell you what I'm fighting for. Not for England, nor her allies, nor any patriotic cause. It's all come down to the hope of being with you.

Love me?” Madeline asked with a faint smile. “It used to be love.” He brushed his lips over her closed eyelids. “Now there's no word for it.” “You once told me that you thought love was a weakness.” “I was wrong,” he whispered, kissing the corners of her mouth. “I've discovered it's my only strength.

...even though you said yes to the wrong man, I hope that won't cause you to say no to the right one.

There were times in life when you had to take a risk that might end in failure. Because otherwise you would be haunted by what you hadn’t done... the paths you hadn’t taken, the things you hadn’t experienced.

One of the servants had reported that Daisy had been sneaking around the house at night, deliberately tripping all the traps to keep the mice from being killed. “Is this true, daughter?” Thomas Bowman had rumbled, his gaze filled with ire as he stared at Daisy. “It could be,” she had allowed. “But there is another explanation.” “And what is that?” Bowman had asked sourly. Her tone turned congratulatory. “I think we are hosting the most intelligent mice in New York!

I'll tell you what I'm fighting for. Not for England, nor her allies, nor any patriotic cause. It's all come down to the hope of being with you.

Because one day of something wonderful is better than a forever of nothing special.