Cleverness is like rouge - liberal application makes a woman look common and desperate. Wit is knowing how to apply it.

Is it truly so unfathomable, that an imperfect girl might be perfectly loved?

I'm male. You rubbed your...femaleness all over me. I didn't think. I reacted.

Her,” he said. “I’ll take her.

The words burned on her tongue, but Minerva couldn’t give them voice. What a hopeless coward she was. She could pound on his door at midnight and demand to be respected as an individual. She could travel across the country in hopes of being appreciated for her scholarly achievements. But she still lacked the courage to ask for the one thing she wanted most. To be loved, just for herself.

You’re a terrible cook. That I’ll grant you. You can’t hold your liquor, either. And you have questionable taste in men. So no, you’re not perfect.” His voice sank to a husky whisper, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “But you’re close. Close enough to restore a man’s faith in miracles.

Think of it like running down a slope. If you attempt to slow down and choose your steps, you’re bound to trip up and stumble.