But only a person in the depths of despair neglected to look beyond winter to the spring that inevitably followed, bringing back color and life and hope.
Mary BaloghLove did not have to make sense. It did not have to be worthy. It did not have to be earned. It did not have to woo. It just simply was.
Mary BaloghDid everyone make the most ghastly blunders at regularly intervals through their life and live to regret them ever afterward? Was everyone's life filled with confusing and contradictory mix of guilt and innocence, hatred and love, concern and unconcern, and any number of other pairings of polar opposites? Or were most people one thing or the other - good or bad, cheerful or crotchety, generous or miserly, and so on.
Mary BaloghAlways guarding one's real, precious self in a cocoon of tranquility within a thousand masks. Life itself had become a secret affair.
Mary Balogh