She didn't want to think about how wrong this was or how foolish it was to give herself to a known seducer. Because tonight Oliver wasn't that man. Not to her. He was the boy who'd cried over his dead mother, the young man who'd lost himself in drink and women to forget the past, the marquess who'd vowed not to marry for money. He was the man to be her lover.

No one in life can ever match fiction

I always say that love is like the meat in a pie,” Freddy put in. “The crust is what people see—the practical things that hold a couple together. But love is the important part—without it you’ve got a meatless pie, and what’s the point of that?” “Why, Freddy,” Minerva said, “that was almost profound.

Sometimes the way to a man's heart is through his talleywacker.

I can promise that even having an imperfect one who loves you is better than having none at all.

No disease is more dangerous than a bad husband, for if a woman catches that Pox, she'll languish from it her entire life.

And in my private life I prefer not to pass myself off as what I'm not (Daniel Brennan)