Quotes from Inner Harbor

Nora Roberts ·  324 pages

Rating: (26.7K votes)


“Up to this point your life has pretty much sucked. You’re not responsible for that. But you are responsible for what happens from here on.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor


“Phillip look into Ray's eyes. He saw compassion and hope. And he saw himself mirrored back, bleeding in a dirty gutter on a street where life was worth less than a dime bag.
Sick, tired, petrified, Phillip dropped his head into his hands.
"What's the point?"
"You're the point, son." Ray ran his hand over Phillip's hair. "You're the point.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor


“He matters to me, too."
"I know he does."
"He didn't." Phillip pulled out his hammer to nail the laps. "Not as much as he did to you. Not enough. It's different now."
"I know that, too." For the next few minutes they worked in tandem, without words. "You stood up for him anyway," Cam added when the plank was in place. "Even when he didn't matter enough."
"I did it for Dad."
"We all did it for Dad. Now we're doing it for Seth.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor


“You belong with us," he said quietly. "Nothing's going to change that.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor


“I don't want to marry her, I just want to have a nice, civilized dinner with her."
"Then bounce on her," Seth finished.
"Christ. He gets that from you," Philip accused Cam.
"He came that way," Cam wrapped an arm around Seth's neck. "Didn't you, brat?"
The panic didn't come now, as it used to whenever Seth was touched or held. Instead he wriggled and grinned.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor



“My mother said once that we were all hers already. We just hadn't found each other before.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor


“Flowers, champagne, caviar. Do you usually come so well equipped when you break and enter?"
"Only when I want to apologize and throw myself on the mercy of a beautiful woman.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor


“It was different with Seth," Anna went on. "Right from the first minute, everything about him pulled at me. I couldn't stop it. I tried, but I couldn't. I've thought about that, and I believe, sincerely, that my feelings for him were there, just there, even before I met him. We were meant to be part of each other's lives. He was meant to be part of this family, and this family was meant to be mine.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor


“It wasn't the paramedics or the surgical team that saved my life. It was Ray and Stella Quinn.”
― Nora Roberts, quote from Inner Harbor


About the author

Nora Roberts
Born place: in Silver Spring, Maryland, The United States
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Popular quotes

“It's not the world that's cruel," Neil said. "It's the people in it.”
― Nora Sakavic, quote from The Foxhole Court


“It was like fishing a swamp, where you feel the tug of something that at first seems promising and then resistant and finally hopeless as you realize that you've snagged the bottom, that you have the whole planet on the other end of your line.”
― Tobias Wolff, quote from This Boy's Life


“Is there a bird among them, dear boy?” Charity asked innocently, peering not at the things on the desk, but at his face, noting the muscle beginning to twitch at Ian’s tense jaw.
“No.”
“Then they must be in the schoolroom! Of course,” she said cheerfully, “that’s it. How like me, Hortense would say, to have made such a silly mistake.”
Ian dragged his eyes from the proof that his grandfather had been keeping track of him almost from the day of his birth-certainly from the day when he was able to leave the cottage on his own two legs-to her face and said mockingly, “Hortense isn’t very perceptive. I would say you are as wily as a fox.”
She gave him a little knowing smile and pressed her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell her, will you? She does so enjoy thinking she is the clever one.”
“How did he manage to have these drawn?” Ian asked, stopping her as she turned away.
“A woman in the village near your home drew many of them. Later he hired an artist when he knew you were going to be somewhere at a specific time. I’ll just leave you here where it’s nice and quiet.” She was leaving him, Ian knew, to look through the items on the desk. For a long moment he hesitated, and then he slowly sat down in the chair, looking over the confidential reports on himself. They were all written by one Mr. Edgard Norwich, and as Ian began scanning the thick stack of pages, his anger at his grandfather for this outrageous invasion of his privacy slowly became amusement. For one thing, nearly every letter from the investigator began with phrases that made it clear the duke had chastised him for not reporting in enough detail. The top letter began,

I apologize, Your Grace, for my unintentional laxness in failing to mention that indeed Mr. Thornton enjoys an occasional cheroot…

The next one opened with,

I did not realize, Your Grace, that you would wish to know how fast his horse ran in the race-in addition to knowing that he won.

From the creases and holds in the hundreds of reports it was obvious to Ian that they’d been handled and read repeatedly, and it was equally obvious from some of the investigator’s casual comments that his grandfather had apparently expressed his personal pride to him:

You will be pleased to know, Your Grace, that young Ian is a fine whip, just as you expected…
I quite agree with you, as do many others, that Mr. Thornton is undoubtedly a genius…
I assure you, Your Grace, that your concern over that duel is unfounded. It was a flesh wound in the arm, nothing more.

Ian flipped through them at random, unaware that the barricade he’d erected against his grandfather was beginning to crack very slightly.
“Your Grace,” the investigator had written in a rare fit of exasperation when Ian was eleven,

“the suggestion that I should be able to find a physician who might secretly look at young Ian’s sore throat is beyond all bounds of reason. Even if I could find one who was willing to pretend to be a lost traveler, I really cannot see how he could contrive to have a peek at the boy’s throat without causing suspicion!”

The minutes became an hour, and Ian’s disbelief increased as he scanned the entire history of his life, from his achievements to his peccadilloes. His gambling gains and losses appeared regularly; each ship he added to his fleet had been described, and sketches forwarded separately; his financial progress had been reported in minute and glowing detail.”
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“Music is a personal response to vibration.”
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