“Sooner or later everyone was driven to love someone they could never have.”
“I want to give you whatever elusive, impossible, goddamned mysterious thing it is you need in order to be happy. Does that frighten you? Well, it frightens the hell out of me. Don't you think I'd stop feeling this way if I could? It's not as if you're the easiest woman in the world to—" He checked himself suddenly.”
“Only someone who had experienced such bitter despair would be able to recognize it in another.”
“You'll be my wife," he said inexorably.
"You want to own me!" she accused, trying to crawl away from him.
"Yes." He flung her down on the bed and flattened his weight on her. As he spoke, his hot breath fanned
her mouth and chin. "Yes. I want other people to look at you and know you're mine. I want you to take
my name and my money. I want you to
live with me. I want to be inside you . . . part of your thoughts . . . your body . . . all of you. I want you to
trust me. I want to give you whatever elusive, impossible, goddamned mysterious thing it is you need in
order to be happy. Does that frighten
you? Well, it frightens the hell out of me. Don't you think I'd stop feeling this way if I could? It's not as if
you're the easiest woman in the world!!”
“You should hate me," she said brokenly. "You should leave me—"
"Hush." His grip tightened, just short of bruising her. "Do you think so little of me? Damn you." He crushed his lips in her hair. "You don't understand anything about me. Did you think I wouldn't want to help you? That I would abandon you if I knew?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Damn you," he repeated, his voice choked with anger and love. He forced her face upward. The hopelessness in her eyes caused a cold pressure to squeeze around his heart.”
“Dearest Lily." Penelope took her hand and pressed it between her own. "Since I was a little girl, I've always thought of you as the most beautiful, most courageous, most everything. But not practical. Never practical.”
“Alex's gaze bore her through like an icicle. He was tempted to shove her back into the ornate carriage and tell the driver to head straight for London. Or a far hotter place.”
“He seemed to read her thoughts easily, as if she were a treasured volume he had paged through a thousand times.”
“When he glanced at the corner where he used to play by himself, he could almost see the ghost of the little boy he had been. So shy and bashful, afraid to speak to anyone. Owen was rarely tongue-tied now, and his good looks and confidence made him approachable. There was still that solitary little boy inside him, though, and he would always prefer the company of a few to the company of many.”
“As the Dalai Lama put it, “In fact, taking care of others, helping others, ultimately is the way to discover your own joy and to have a happy life.” The”
“I wasn’t a woman who needed convincing that she wanted to be alone, but I did need help seeing clearly what that reality might look like, and evidence that there were indeed rewards to be gained if I was bold enough to pursue them—that,”
“How long before both women and men are allowed to see self-respecting rebellion as a lifelong possibility?”
“You know people who read are a lot more tolerant and open-minded than those who don’t.” “Great,”
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