Quotes from Betsy in Spite of Herself

Maud Hart Lovelace ·  352 pages

Rating: (4.1K votes)


“Isn't it mysterious to begin a new journal like this? I can run my fingers through the fresh clean pages but I cannot guess what the writing on them will be.”
― Maud Hart Lovelace, quote from Betsy in Spite of Herself


“The silence in the room had width, height, depth, mass and substance.”
― Maud Hart Lovelace, quote from Betsy in Spite of Herself


“When there are boys you have to worry about how you look, and whether they like you, and why they like another girl better, and whether they're going to ask you to something or other. It's a strain.”
― Maud Hart Lovelace, quote from Betsy in Spite of Herself


“Betsy dreamed about going away from Deep Valley, but she didn't for a moment suspect that around a bend in her Winding Hall of Fate a journey was actually waiting.”
― Maud Hart Lovelace, quote from Betsy in Spite of Herself


“Did he know that she was so dissatisfied with herself that she was always pretending to be different? Probably he did, and despised her for it. More than anyone she knew, Joe Willard was always, fearlessly, himself.”
― Maud Hart Lovelace, quote from Betsy in Spite of Herself



About the author

Maud Hart Lovelace
Born place: in Mankato, MN, The United States
Born date April 25, 1892
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“What the f**k is this?”

Trevor didn’t rise to the bait, as he hadn’t for the last several days. Calmly, he asked,

“What?”

“This.” Edgard threw the pristine, custom-made saddle on the ground within Trevor’s peripheral view.

Shit. How had Edgard found it? And why in the hell had that bastard gone snooping around instead of figuring out what was wrong with Meridian like he’d promised?

“Trev? I asked you a question.”

“You know damn good and well what it is, Ed.”

“I figured you would’ve gotten rid of it by now.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Edgard practically growled, “That don’t tell me why you still have it. That don’t tell me nothin’.”

Trevor turned his face toward the opposite fence to gaze across to the mountains. His reasons for keeping the saddle seemed sentimental, sloppy and stupid now, but he’d be damned if he’d share those reasons with anyone, least of all Edgard, the man responsible for those feelings.

Bootsteps made a sucking sound in the muck of the corral as Edgard closed the short distance between them. “I ain’t gonna drop it. Answer me.”

“Fine. You said I could do whatever I wanted with it. So I kept it.”

“You didn’t use it at all, did you?”

Trevor shook his head, keeping his eyes averted.

“Why not?”

“I have plenty of other saddles, saddles I like better.”

“That’s a piss-poor excuse. Try again.”

He stayed mum, wishing the damn mud would open up and swallow him like a sinkhole.

“Were you hoping if you kept it I’d come back?”

Trevor’s heart said yes but his mouth stayed tight as a rusty hinge.

“Answer the f**king question, Trevor.”

Edgard’s arrogant streak snapped Trevor’s forced patience. “What do you want me to say? It’s obvious I saved the goddamn saddle.”

“Why?”

“Because it reminded me of you, all right?” He kicked a chunk of mud and stalked away. “Fuck this and f**k you.”

Edgard rattled off something in Portuguese, something Trevor vaguely remembered as being a plea. Or was it a threat?

Dammit. His feet stopped. Trevor’s gaze zeroed in on Edgard, who’d circled him until they were standing less than a foot apart.

“Tell me why.”

Be cruel, that’ll nip this in the bud once and for all.

“I didn’t keep the f**kin’ thing because I had some girlish goddamn hope you’d come back lookin’ for it like Cinderella’s lost glass slipper, and we’d pick up where we left off after you left me.” He locked his eyes to the liquid heat in Edgard’s, not allowing the man to look away. “Especially after you made it crystal clear you weren’t ever comin’ back.”

Angry puffs of breath distorted the air between them.

Several beats passed before Edgard retorted, “But I am here now, aren’t I?”

“What? Am I supposed to be flippin’ cartwheels about that fact? I don’t know what you want from me, Ed. Take the saddle back if that’ll make you happy. I’ve got no use for it. I never did.” Angry, disgusted with himself, Edgard, and the whole uncomfortable situation, Trevor spun and walked toward the barn.

Edgard laughed—the taunting, soft laughter that was guaranteed to raise Trevor’s hackles and his ire. “It’s that easy for you? To get pissed off and walk away?”

“Yep. You’ve got no right to act so goddamned surprised since it’s a trick I learned from you, amigo.”

Not two seconds later, the air left Trevor’s lungs as Edgard tackled him to the ground. Trevor rolled to dislodge the man from his back; Edgard countered, took a swing and missed. Trevor bucked and twisted his shoulders, but Edgard anticipated the move and used the momentum against Trevor to try and shove Trevor’s face against the fence.

Before Edgard cornered him and held him down completely to land a punch, Trevor rolled again and pushed to his feet. A noise echoed behind him, but he ignored it as he fisted his hands in Edgard’s shearling coat, dragging him upright until they were nose to nose.”
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