“I liked that young man, did not you? There was something particularly pleasing about his manners, which I thought very easy and frank. He has an air of honest manliness, too, which, in these days of fribbles and counter-coxcombs, I own I find refreshing!”
“Are you well? You look a trifle peaked.'
'If I do, it is because black doesn't become me. I mean to lighten my mourning, and have ordered a charming gray gown.'
'You are mistaken.'
'What, in going into half-mourning?'
'No, in thinking black does not become you.”
“My goddess! My queen!'
'Oh, no, no, no!'
He raised his head, smiling a little crookedly down at her. 'Do you dislike to hear yourself called so? There is nothing I would not do to please you, but you cannot help but be my goddess! You have been so these seven years!'
'Only a goddess could dislike it! You see by that how wretchedly short of the mark I fall. I have a little honesty - enough to tell you *now* that you must not worship me.'
He only laughed, and kissed her again. She protested no more, too much a woman not to be deeply moved by such idolatry, and awed by the constancy which, though it might have been to a false image, could not be doubted.”
“I wish to God I might induce her to mind me!' he ejaculated.”
“Lady Theresa prophesied disaster for all concerned, and hoped that when Serena was dying an old maid she would remember these words, and be sorry. Meanwhile she remained her affectionate aunt.”
“But, Summer,” Thomas interrupted, “if you have your own house, you won’t be living here anymore.” Summer pulled her attention away from Peter. “No, but I was only staying until you were caught up on your studies and could return to school. You’re all caught up and even ahead, I would wager. Your ribs have healed enough for you to ride Daisy to school when the winter break is over. So my time here is nearly done.” “But-but …” the boy sputtered. “What is troubling you, boy?” Peter asked. Thomas looked at the floor. “I wanted Summer to … always stay here. I wanted her to … be … my ma.” His words ended on a hoarse whisper. Summer felt as though her heart turned over in her chest. She looked at Peter, uncertain how to answer the boy. By Peter’s expression, he was lost, too. Maternal instinct took over, and she pulled Thomas into her embrace. As he had the night Peter didn’t return, the boy clung, burying his face against her shoulder.”
“Our problem as Americans -- at least, among my race and gender -- is that we resist the very idea of limits, regarding limits of all sorts as temporary and regrettable impositions on our lives.”
“—¡Nunca tienes suficiente!
—No. ¡Nunca tengo suficiente de ti!
Ni yo de ti, pensé.”
“If you became mine, I wouldn’t let you go.” His words were clipped, as if he was biting back frenzy. “Understand me, if I’m your first lover— I will be your last.” The ringing tone of finality chilled me. “And I would kill any man who thought to touch what was mine.”
“In the two months I had also dated Justin Fellowes, this guy in my Spanish class, though after three weeks we decided we should "see other people," which in my case was a joke, but it beat hearing him remark on everything I ate. 'I don't know why girls are always on a diet,' he'd say when I ordered a Diet Coke, and 'You should watch your starch intake' when I had a muffin.”
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