I had a perfect life in my reach once, and it was a crashing bore. Perfect is too clean, too easy. I don't want perfect any more than I want to be perfect. I want imperfect.

Why now? Why not wait for a man to come along and…sweep you off your feet?” She gave a short laugh. “If the man you speak of had ever planned on coming, my lord, I’m afraid he has obviously lost his way. And, at twenty-eight, I find I have grown tired of waiting.

She looked up at him and said,"What did you say?" "You have beautiful eyes." "You told my father that he has beautiful eyes?" He smiled. "No. You distracted me. I told your father that, while I was very grateful for the lesson, I doubt I would ever need of it again- because I was planning to court only one woman in my lifetime.

When I feel hurt, I fully experience my emotions (and don't make them anyone else's problem!). Then I question my thoughts, examining my belief system and meeting the reality of life.

And... as long as they need me, it's easier to forget that I am alone.

She took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a long moment. A raindrop moved slowly down her neck; he watched as it turned down the slope of her breast to disappear inside the collar of her shirt. He was seriously contemplating becoming jealous of a droplet of water. Yorkshire was obviously damaging to his sanity.

Sometimes, love was not enough.