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Oh, I have felt lust. And I've indulged lust. But no other woman has turned me into another person.

Eloisa James

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Eloisa James
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: January 1
Novelist
Professor
Minnesota
United States
Mary Bly
Another
Persons
Person
Indulged
Lust
Turned
Woman
Felt

More quotes by Eloisa James

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Where did you go to school?” Piers inquired. “Your all together too literate for a butler. Most bulters I know say things like as you wish, my lord, and leave it at that. Our conversations should be along these lines: Prufrock, bring me a wench and then you would say, as you wish.
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You don't know how easy death is. It's - it's like a door. A person simply walks through it, and she's lost to you forever.
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He's male. I've noticed that sometimes the brains simply get left out of the package.
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Life does not always gives us the choices that we want
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I didn't realize you needed a response. When Hamlet is giving a monologue, he just goes on and on by himself.
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I don't want to have to earn love by giving up my ability to make decisions that determine how I live.
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It’s better to live like a flame, to know a man and love him even if he can’t be yours, then never to love at all.
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Dogs do tricks. Cats play tricks.
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If you don't mind a word of advice, one never asks a lady to set her own price. If you have to ask, the answer will always be more than you can afford.
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I have come to the conclusion that silence and time are the most precious commodities.
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Yes Leopold, Eleanor said in a low, mocking voice. Do start to shine, please. I think I saw the rising, but I definitely missed the shining.
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Life should not be measured by time. The only thing that counts is how one uses the time one has.
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Let go of the anger, hang on to the good lessons.
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My duchess,” James stated, his eyes sweeping the crowd with the air of a man who has ruled the waves. “She is not a swan, because that would imply she had once been an ugly duckling.
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She still remembered sitting for hours as a little girl and pretending to be a hassock. A foot stool. Because if she could just stay very small, and very quiet, her mother would forget she was there, and then she wouldn't scream about people and places and things that had gone wrong.
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You’re the only one for me. I came back from the dead for you, Daisy. Twice.
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Some say writing is its own reward. I write for money, but writing for money is not so bad, especially when that writing brings you joy.
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One more time, she promised herself. That wasn't too trollopy. She wouldn't be too trollopy. But when they actually got to the guardhouse? Trollopy.
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In case there is any question in your mind, he said, cupping her face with his hands. What I want, what I most desire, the loveliest sight on this dark earth, is you.
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Shame can kill the imagination. It's hard to keep writing in the face of cultural derision.
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