The world hasn't changed that much; men still rule.

When a man wants a mystery, it is generally better to leave him mystified. Nobody loves a clever woman.

I would play ball with Catherine, and hide and seek: Not a very challenging game in an open meadow, but she was still at the age where she believed that if she shut her eyes and buried her head under a shawl then she could not be seen.

He had taken George, my beloved George, from me. And he had taken my other self: Anne.

I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything but think about him. At night I dream of him, all day I wait to see him, and when I do see him my heart turns over and I think I will faint with desire.

I wanted the heat and the sweat and the passion of a man that I could love and trust. And I wanted to give myself to him: not for advantage, but for desire.

He may well speak French and Latin and half a dozen languages, but since he has nothing to say – what good are they?