Often you will discover that the harder you work, and the more wisely you work, the luckier you get. But there is luck, and it helps.

Nobody looks like what they really are on the inside. You don’t. I don’t. People are much more complicated than that. It’s true of everybody.

You see, evil always contains the seeds of its own destruction. It is ultimately negative, and therefore encompasses its downfall even at its moments of apparent triumph. No matter how grandiose, how well-planned, how apparently foolproof of an evil plan, the inherent sinfulness will by definition rebound upon its instigators. No matter how apparently successful it may seem upon the way, at the end it will wreck itself. It will founder upon the rocks of iniquity and sink headfirst to vanish without trace into the seas of oblivion.

Potentially evil. Potentially good, too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality waiting to be shaped.

It's a given that we exist in a world where we have to live in continuity every day; no one is immune to that, in life or romance novels. By the same token, it's not something I find terribly important.

Everything here is so weak, little girl. Everything breaks so easily. They want such simple things.

Every lover is, in his heart, a madman, and, in his head, a minstrel.