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It was the one dream he'd never permitted himself to consider.

Julia Quinn

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Julia Quinn
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 12
Author
Writer
Evergreen State
Julie Cotler
Julie Pottinger
Never
Permitted
Consider
Dream

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Oh, very well, do you want to know why I really think you should keep a journal? She nodded. Because someday you're going to grow into yourself, and you will be as beautiful as you already are smart.
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It wasn‟t even desire. It was far more than that. It was love. Love. With a capital L and swirly script and hearts and flowers and whatever else the angels— and yes, all those annoying little cupids—wished to use for embellishment.
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It has oft been said that physicians make the worst patients, but it is the opinion of This Author that any man makes a terrible patient. One might say it takes patience to be a patient, and heaven knows, the males of our species lack an abundance of patience.
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He'd been waiting for a love fraught with passion and drama it hadn't even occurred to him that true love might be something that was utterly comfortable and just plain easy.
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You have to live each hour as if it's your last and each day as if you were immortal. - Kate Sheffield
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If he was planning to attack and ravish, he gave no indication of being in a hurry to do so.
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He shook his head in wonder. You are magnificent. I keep telling everyone that, she said with a nonchalant shrug, but you seem to be the only one to believe me.
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You don't always have to kiss a lot of frogs to recognize a prince when you find one -Henrietta Barett
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It’s a curse, really,” Lady Danbury said. “I’m the only person I know my age who has perfect hearing.” “Most would call that a blessing.” She snorted. “Not with that musicale looming over the horizon.
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Francesca: It's still a bit cold yet. Michael: Never stopped John and me. Francesca: Yes, well, you're Scottish. Your blood circulates quite well half frozen.
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Am I not allowed to have my pride? Or is that an emotion reserved for the elite?
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Because if he looked like he was unaffected by her smile, then she would not realize that, in actuality, he was in an utter panic because somewhere deep down inside he’d realized that his life had just changed forever.
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She smelled like England, of soft rain and sun-kissed meadows. And she felt like the best kind of heaven. He wanted to wrap himself around, bury himself within her, and stay there for all of his days. He hadn’t had a drop to drink in three years, but he was intoxicated now, bubbling with a lightness he’d never thought to feel again.
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I thought you wanted food, she gasped. I do, he murmured, tugging on the bodice of her dress. But I want you more.
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He sucked his lips in an attempt not to laugh. Aren't you Spanish? She raised one arm in a salute. Viva la Queen Isabella! I see. Then why are you speaking with a French accent?
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He was a puzzle. And Hyacinth hated puzzles. Well, no, in truth she loved them. Provided, of course, that she solved them.
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Besides, he said breezily, were it not for misunderstandings, we would be sadly lacking in great literature. She looked at him questioningly. Where would Romeo and Juliet be? Alive.
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Daniel held himself very still, waiting for the wave of jealousy that never came. He was furious with the man who’d taken advantage of her innocence, but he did not feel jealous. He did not need to be her first, he realized. He simply needed to be her last. Her only.
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Elizabeth, you resemble nothing so much as a hen trying to hatch a book.
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Men are sheep. Where one goes, the rest will soon follow. -Lady Whistledown
Julia Quinn