Karen Hawkins · 313 pages
Rating: (4.2K votes)
“I’ve often thought it unfair that women are expected to stay at home when there’s a fight to be won. If a
woman has the strength to bear a child, she can swing a sword as well as any man.”
“As Jack began to climb the stairs, Fiona looked up at her new home. Five stories of stately mansion
rose above her head. Heavy molding around the large windows and doors bespoke a quality and
craftsmanship that was obvious even in the dim night. “Good God! It’s massive!”
Jack paused with his foot on the last step. “I do wish you’d keep those comments until we are in bed,
love. I would appreciate them all the more there.”
“I’ve noticed that women often have a desire to change men, even the ones they love.”
“I’ve noticed that, too.” Dougal frowned. “Which is odd, when you think about it. Because if you didn’t
like the way a man is, why would you attach yourself to him to begin with?”
“Could he be naked beneath his breeches? They
seemed molded to him, outlining the powerful lines of his thighs and the swell just above—
Oh, God. She closed her eyes. She’d been looking at his—Not only was it rude, but it had sent an
amazing tingle through her, almost as if she’d touched it.
“Fiona, if you ever look at me like that again, I will not be held responsible for what I do.” Jack was so
close that she could feel his breath on her temple. “Do you understand?”
“Her honor will come to no harm at my hands,” Jack said.
“’Tis not her honor but her tender heart that I worry about,” Alexander said.
“She’s a delicate lass,” Hugh added.
“Aye,” said Gregor. “A Scottish rose.”
“Your tender, delicate rose had me ambushed, knocked unconscious, and forced to wed,” Jack ground
out. “Facts you all know, if you’ve spoken to Hamish.”
Dougal grinned, his teeth flashing whitely. “She has the devil’s own temper, our Fiona does.”
“Jack looked at the paper. Devonsgate had listed all twelve footmen: John, Mark, Luke,
Thomas…Bloody hell, his butler had hired the entire New Testament.”
“It's unfair that women are expected to stay at home when there's a fight to be won. If a woman has the strength to bear a child, she can swing a sword as well as any man.”
“It took all of her moral strength not to kick him—just a little—while he was so conveniently at her feet.”
“Shoes really did lead the perfect life. They were polished and taken care of and not
expected to do anything more painful than occasionally step in a bit of mud or a rare puddle. She’d
wager her shoes never wished they could just disappear.”
“Jack took the note:
My lord, Lady Kincaid announced she would be out this evening. When I asked where, she said she
was going “carousing.” That is a direct quote. Please advise. Devonsgate.”
“It does not pay to be
possessive of a man determined to remain free.”
“My marriage to Kincaid is a bit more complicated than I thought. There are certain things we don’t agree
on, and—”
“You wish to change his mind about something,” Gregor finished.
“How did you know?”
“I’ve noticed that women often have a desire to change men, even the ones they love.”
“I’ve noticed that, too.” Dougal frowned.”
“Ah, lassies, be sure ye make good decisions, firm and fast. Those who don’t know what they want get what they deserve.
OLD WOMAN NORA OF LOCH LOMOND
TO HER THREE WEE GRANDDAUGHTERS ONE COLD NIGHT”
“Spense la sigaretta nel portacenere. Non si sarebbe messa a lamentarsi, non era più una bambina. Ma le restava dentro un dolore. E un suono continuo e sommesso, il debole riverbero qualcosa di simile alla gioia, continuava a vivere ai margini della sua memoria, una qualche specie di desiderio che un tempo aveva trovato risposta e ora, semplicemente, non più.”
“Take the goods the gods provide you.”
“When she came out, Preeti was waiting by her cot. “You coming to breakfast?” she said accusatorially, as if Shay had already abandoned her for a second time.”
“There is nothing more difficult to outgrow than anxieties that have become useful to us, whether as explanations for a life that never quite finds its true force or direction, or as fuel for ambition, or as a kind of reflexive secular religion that, paradoxically, unites us with others in a shared sense of complete isolation: you feel at home in the world only by never feeling at home in the world.”
“Christ was pure; absolutely pure. He was the Holy One. He had an infinite abhorrence of sin. He loathed it. His holy soul shrank from it. But on the Cross our iniquities were all laid upon Him, and sin—that vile thing—enrapt itself around Him like a horrible serpent’s coils. And yet, He willingly suffered for us! Why? Because He loved us: “Having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end” (Joh 13:1).”
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