When one had once suffered a great hurt, there was always a weakness afterward, a vulnerability where there had been wholeness and strength before - and innocence.
Was he a pleasant man hiding behind a mask of seeming carelessness or an unpleasant man hiding behind a mask of charm & smiles? Or like most humans, was he a dizzying mix of contradictory charactersti...
Una luz moría también en él, cuando ella era infeliz.
Tonight seems eons away, but there are these moments.
To Jane Austen, for making romance novels classics and keepers for generations.
This time her heart would not break, even though it would hurt and hurt for a long time to come. Perhaps for the rest of her life. But it would not break. She had the strength to go on alone.
There is a terrible pain,' she said softly, 'about being abandoned by someone who loves someone else more than you. A pain and an emptiness and a determination never again to give anyone that power.
The trouble with running away is that you must always take yourself with you.
The people we love are usually stronger than we give them credit for. It is the nature of love, perhaps, to want to shoulder all the pain rather than see the loved one suffer. But sometimes pain is be...
The only thing you can neither plan nor control, my dearest love, the duke had once told her, is love itself. When you find it, you must yield to it. But only if it is the one and only true passion of...
Tell me, Lady Angeline, is there a color represented in your rather splendid riding hat? It would be a shame if there were. It would be sitting all alone on a palette somewhere, feeling rejected and...
It was a fear that disappeared once the action started, to be replaced by the mad bloodlust that was sometimes called courage.
It is a common failing of men. They see someone they consider beautiful and desirable and eligible, and they imagine that they love her. In fact, though, they love themselves reflected in her eyes.
If there were no illusions, there would bo no disillusionment. But then one would have no fond memories either, with which fortify oneself against the pain of the reality.
If she allowed herself to wallow in self-pity, she would be in danger of becoming one of those habitual moaners and complainers everyone avoided.
I think it is more tha6 the sea is a reminder of how little control we have over our own lives no matter how carefully we try to plan and order them. Everything changes in ways we least expect, and ev...
I perceive, he said, that you are of the half-empty-glass school of thought, Miss Osbourne, while I am of the half-full school. Then we are quite incompatible, she said. Not necessarily so, he said. S...
I do not expect you to understand, Mr. Cunningham. You do not have the experience to understand what has happened to me, just as I do not have the experience to understand what has happened to you in...
How fragile were the moments of chance on which the whole course of one's life hinged.
Home had always been a place to dream of.