“His world looked like a storm. I was going to be its center.”
“It’s a strange thing to discover how much you matter to people you didn’t really know you mattered to.”
“I’d decided that I was going to stop dressing like a princess and start dressing like a queen.”
“He'd said all the words I'd ever hoped to hear: queen, wife, adore. The dreams I'd stored in my heart were actually comint true.”
“But shouldn't there be a least? Shouldn't there be a bare minimum that life should give you? Is it too much to ask for a job you don't hate, or for someone to truly have and hold? Is it too much to ask for one child? Even one some would call flawed? Couldn't I at least have that?”
“On the contrary, he was a mystery I was excited to solve.”
“For as harsh as his words were, his voice seemed to caress my name”
“Because if it was a choice between him or me, I didn't think I'd be able not to put him first. He was the prince, and his life was invaluable to the country. But more than that, it was invaluable to me.”
“I’m desperate for peace. I think you might be the only chance I have at that.” I smiled. “The center of your storm?” He exhaled, looking relieved. “Yes.”
“It’s more than that. You’d take a bullet for him if you had to.” I didn’t answer. “You would! Oh, my goodness!” I stood. “I’m going to grab some of those dresses. I’ll be right back.” I tried not to be afraid of the thoughts in my head. Because if it was a choice between him or me, I didn’t think I’d be able not to put him first. He was the prince, and his life was invaluable to the country. But more than that, it was invaluable to me. I shrugged the thought away. Besides, it wasn’t as if it would ever happen.”
“This was joy. This was love. So many words you hear about or read about and now...now I knew them.”
“My body didn’t care for me, so what did I care for it?”
“he gave me a wink and a crooked smile, and I was left there, grinning like an idiot.”
“It’s a strange thing to discover how much you matter to people you didn’t really know you mattered to. Or to find that the slow disintegration of yourself causes a smaller version to happen in other people.”
“Vehemently denying something always implies guilt.”
“His world looked like a storm.
I was going tp be its center.”
“His world looked like a storm.
I was going to be its center.”
“Not love, maybe not even affection, but something a degree or two beyond basic concern.”
“This was joy. This was love. So many words you hear about or read about, and now . . . now I knew them. When”
“He was becoming intimate with her mind, with her body, like a lover, though he had not yet shared her body or mind in the way he wanted. Darius”
“To Jacob the act of critiquing art was essentially imprecise. That's why he didn't read reviews on anything he liked, be it a book, a movie, or a record. He believed that any work an artist puts forth which contains the truth as he or she sees it is worthy of consideration, and any commentary of the work beyond that is nothing more than pure individual opinion and should not be considered relevant to the work itself.”
“It is always so strange that when you are working you never think of all the inspiring thoughts that made you take up the work in the first instance. Before I was in hospital at all I thought that because I suffered myself I should feel it a grand thing to relieve the sufferings of other people. But now, when I am actually doing something which I know relieves someone's pain, it is nothing but a matter of business. I may think lofty thoughts about the whole thing before or after but never at the time. At least, almost never. Sometimes some quite little thing makes me stop short all of a sudden and I feel a fierce desire to cry in the middle of whatever it is I am doing.”
“Perhaps it was inevitable that all learning, whether born of good or bad intention, whether used to give life or to take life away, must come to light at some point in time. Perhaps”
“Daffy had stopped talking, without her noticing. It was if he'd run out of words. He did a peculiar thing, then; he reached out and touched Mary's cheekbone; lightly, as if he was brushing away a speck of coal dust. She thought of Doll, that first morning, wiping mud out of the lost child's eyes. Her throat hurt, all at once, as if she were swallowing a stone. She wished the two of them could stay forever frozen in this moment, hidden in the grass, as the setting sun slid across the fields of Monmouth. Before any asking, any refusal. While this strange, tame young man was still looking at her as is she were worth any price.”
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