“Sometimes people don't have to make you love them...you just do, and there's no help for it.”
“Heath," she whispered, "you're all I want. No one else ... no one . . .”
“He caressed the side of her jaw with his fingertips, sending a light shiver down her spine. "I should warn you that if we lose the paper, we'll have to sell the house.”
“And the furniture.”
“I don’t care.”
“We can pawn, sell, and trade off everything we own… but if you dare say one thing about my diamond, you’ll regret it for the rest of your married life. This ring is mine, and it's not leaving my finger."
He grinned at her vehemence. "I wasn’t going to say anything about your ring, honey.” Bending down to kiss her, he left wet handprints on the waist and bodice of her gown, but Lucy was too enthralled by his hearty kiss to protest.
"You taste like coffee," she whispered when his lips left hers.
"I could do with more."
"Coffee or kisses?"
"Always more kisses . . .”
“There hasn't been any other woman," Heath said against her mouth, making her tremble. "There couldn't be. I'm too obsessed with my own wife. There's only one thing you can give me that no one else can . . . and heaven and hell be damned, I'll get it from you no matter how long I have to wait, no matter how hard I have to ride you. No, I'm not talking solely about my husbandly rights, although that would be a good place to start.”
“Pretend you're mine," he urged, his arms closing around her. "Just for a minute. Pretend there's never been anyone but me, that I'm the one you're promised to. Do it for me....I'll never ask again.”
“Don't tell me you don't trust me, Lucinda. For the way I exercised such commendable restraint last night, I deserve a medal, not suspicion.”
“Heath had been there to help her, letting her draw from his strength. Did she have enough strength to sustain him in the same way?”
“They had known each other intimately, as husband and wife, countless times, He had held her with tenderness and passion, but never with such rampant wildness.”
“This was never making love before..not before you.I knew how different it was going to be with you the first time we kissed."
"You knew that...just from a kiss?"
"I'll have to remind you about the kiss.”
“You're so sweet . . . Cinda ... I knew you would feel like this ... I knew it would be this way. Put your arms around me . . . ah, Cin. . .”
“Why did you call me that?"
"Cinda? Because no one else does.”
“And he raised his glass to her. It could have been a compliment. Or the most sarcastic gesture anyone had ever made to her.”
“Everyone's looking," she whispered, letting him lead her to the center of the waltzing couples, several of which moved to allow them plenty of room.
"Everyone's been looking at you all night," he said wryly. "Especially me.”
“Someday I'm going to throw you across his back and ride off west with you...and you'll learn to make a coffee in a tin pot over a fire, and we'll sleep underneath a wagon and look out at the stars-”
“Thank you," Emerson said, bowing his head and accepting the box with the tender hands of a parent holding a child. "I am indebted-"
"Don't be.This doesn't mean I like you or your politics any better," Heath said gruffly.”
“Now the line was drawn. Lucy had never thought that one of the fiercest battles of her life would be fought over a breakfast table, with quiet words carefully chosen.”
“He's a good man.He's staightforward and he knows exactly what he wants-"
"Yes. You must favor your mother."
She smiled reluctantly at the gentle taunt.”
“Don't do that with your fiance," Heath said. "He'll be asking where you learned it.”
“I was..sorry that you had been in prison camp.."
"A reassuring sentiment, coming from my wife. Anything else?”
“A toast to the engagement on your former fiance and your former best friend. Tell me, how hard did you have to grit your teeth?"
As Lucy refused to answer, he laughed softly. "Forgive me. I don't mean to detract from your noble gesture.”
“The purpose of the latest series of intellectual meetings, which were held in various parlors in Concord, was to talk about Reconstruction with objectivity, sensibility, and a lack of prejudice. As everyone had expected, the meetings were far from objective, seldom sensible, and never unprejudiced.”
“As he looked up and saw is audience poised on the staircase, he gave a curt nod that barely passed for a greeting.
"Well," Lucy said, "it looks as if you Christmas spirit has undergone a beating.”
“Lucy waited patiently, knowing that he did want to talk, or he wouldn't have put on such a performance when he came in. Heath's door slamming was always an announcement that a conversation was in order.”
“Good Morning," she said.
"We all have our own opinions about that, Mrs. Rayne.”
“And now she's right where she wants to be,Lucy thought with a stab of fury. How easily men were taken in by women! A few tears, some sweet Southern helplessness. Oh,it must have been ridiculously easy for Raine.And here she, Lucy, was, harboring the woman under her own roof! It had the makings of a fine farce.”
“You're unbelievable," he said in a low voice, and it wasn't a compliment. "It amazes me that there was ever a time I thought you needed toughening up."
"Would you prefer someone more...helpless?"
Even Lucy had to admit that she had pushed him too far.”
“In the past year I've gotten used to being cut down to size whenever I start acting too high and mighty. If you didn't keep me in line,I'd be damn well unmanageable. As it is, you're going to have a lot of work to do once they leave.”
“Maybe when you're married, you'll have a better idea of what desperate lengths you'll go to...for your sake,I hope not.”
“Je suis toutes ces choses. Toutes ces choses, mais j'ai déjà eu une mère, et elle m'aimait.”
“In 1850, August Salzmann photographed, near Jerusalem, the road to Beith-Lehem (as it was spelled at the time): nothing but stony ground, olive trees; but three tenses dizzy my consciousness: my present, the time of Jesus, and that of the photographer, all this under the instance of 'reality' — and no longer through the elaborations of the text, whether fictional or poetic, which itself is never credible down to the root.”
“Zuviel ist gerade so falsch wie zuwenig.”
“Lula's borderline too much of a good thing in lots of ways. It isn't exactly that Lula is fat; it's more that she's too short for her weight and her clothes are too small for the volume of flesh she carries.”
“I never in my life argued with a piece of cake or a bowl of ice cream.”
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