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She wept with shame for her lack of will and with fear for a love she couldn't control.

Judith McNaught

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Judith McNaught
Age: 80
Born: 1944
Born: May 10
Author
Novelist
Writer
San Luis Obispo
California
Control
Fear
Love
Wept
Lack
Shame
Couldn

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What hap­pens to me if this slip­per fits? I turn you into a hand­some frog.
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After all, it's not every day a woman is given a kingdom of dreams.
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Missing you? she giggled incredulously. I could cheerfully murder you. I'd come back to haunt you, he threatened with a grin. And that, she said, is the only reason why I haven't tried.
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Elizabeth, if you want to be kissed, all you have to do is put your lips on mine.
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God help me if I ever injure my back, Clayton quipped. God help you if you ever turn it, Whitney snapped, for there'll surely be some heartbroken papa or cuckolded husband ready with a knife--if I don't murder you first.
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Now they are empty, Ramon replied with a shrug of broad, muscled shoulders on his six-foot-three-inch frame....For the first time, a glint of humor touched Ramon Galverra's finely sculpted mouth and arrogant dark eyes.
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If I had a hundred kingdoms, I would trade them all for you, my dearest love. I was nothing until you.
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Some women need no jewels to make them sparkle. You are one of them. -Royce Westmoreland
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I think we women underrate ourselves when it comes to our courage and strength.
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Some people feel love in their hearts, Julie. Some of us feel it all way into our souls. We're the ones who can't forget.
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Sometimes it just happens - to the wrong people at the wrong time.
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People who talk less frequently notice more.
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How foolish to yearn to ask the very person who'd caused the pain to heal it
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I ought to break your neck! Clayton interrupted. Too late, Whitney realized that she shouldn't have been standing all this time on her injured knee. Allow me to congratulate you on a fine day's work, Madam, he said sternly. In less than twelve hours, you've brought Whitticomb to your side and Cuthbert to your feet.
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Jason, stop this,” she pleaded. “You don’t want to kiss me. You don’t even like me more than a little when you aren’t foxed” A harsh laugh escaped him. “I like you too damned much!” he whispered bitterly, then pulled her head down and captured her lips in a demaning, scalding kiss that took everything and give nothing in return.
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An answering smile drifted across his tanned face. What is mine, I intend to keep.
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I do not believe that grief is ever so great that it can not be contained within.
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But he knew instinctively what he suggested was impossible. She'd been through so much, and held her tears back for so long, that Royce doubted that anything could force her to shed them.
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The groom always smiles proudly because he's convinced he's accomplished something quite wonderful. The bride smiles because she's been able to convince him of it.
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Royce Westmoreland stared at him with biting scorn. I despise hypocrisy, particularly when it is coated with holiness. May I ask for a specific example? Fat priests, Royce replied, with fat purses, who lecture staving peasants on the dangers of gluttony and the merits of poverty.
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