Then you're a bigger fool than I thought. Since when has any man ever been worthy of the woman he loved? It's only by God's grace that they love us in spite of ourselves.

Love does nothing but make you weak! It turns you into an object of pity and derision-a mewling pathetic creature no more fit to live than a worm squirming on the pavement after a hard summer rain.

A lady has every right to defend herself against unsought advances. And creatures of the night.

Love isn't a burst o' trumpets and a flock o' doves descendin' out o' the heavens to roost on yer heads. Tis sharin' a cup o' tea by the hearth on a cold winter's night. 'Tis the look in yer husband's eyes when ye lay yer first child in his arms. Tis the ache in yer heart when ye watch the light in his eyes dim fer the last time, and know a part o' ye has gone out o' this world with him.

We're all haunted in one way or another, are we not? If not by spirits, then by our own demons and regrets.

His lips nuzzled her ear. “Whether you go or stay, I will love you until I die,” he whispered.

Women are delicate creatures. Fragile. Gentle. Made by God to be sheltered from the harshness of this world.. Morgan MacDonnell