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Men. The day they learned to admit to a mistake was the day they became women.

Julia Quinn

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Julia Quinn
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 12
Author
Writer
Evergreen State
Julie Cotler
Julie Pottinger
Became
Learned
Mistake
Women
Men
Admit

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Nothing like trapping the gentlemen where they couldn't get away.
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It was juvenile, he knew, this need to assign blame, but everyone had a right to childish emotions from time to time, didn't they?
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I love you with everything I am, everything I've been, and everything I hope to be. I love you with my past, and I love you for my future. I love you for the children we'll have and for the years we'll have together. I love you for every one of my smiles and even more, for every one of your smiles.
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It suddenly made sense. Only twice in his life had he felt this inexplicable, almost mystical attraction to a woman. He’d thought it remarkable, to have found two, when in his heart he’d always believed there was only one perfect woman out there for him. His heart had been right. There was only one.
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Tell me something wicked.
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Weakness never got anyone anywhere.
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Interesting, he later reflected, was perhaps not the correct word.By the time he and Henry arrived back at the house for their midday meal-a scrumptious bowl of hot, sticky porridge-he had mucked out the stable stalls, milked a cow, been pecked by three separate hens, weeded a vegetable garden, and fallen into a trough.
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People will think you're courting me.' 'Nonsense, everyone knows I don't court respectable women.
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James - Are you paying attention or just trying to make me look like an idoit? Elizabeth - Oh, I'm definately paying attention. If you look like an idiot it has nothing to do with me.
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Don't settle. Know what you want and reach for it. And if you don't know what you want, be patient. The answers will come to you in time, and you may find that your heart s desire has been right under your nose all the while.
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Deep inside, she knew who she was, and that person was smart and kind and often even funny, but somehow her personality always got lost somewhere between her heart and her mouth, and she found herself saying the wrong thing or, more often, nothing at all.
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This thing between them, this bond—it wasn’t just passion, and it wasn’t wicked. It was love, and it was divine.
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No one knows as well as I how much nonsense is printed in books.
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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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I don't like your tone, was Violet's standard answer when one of her children was winning an argument.
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Michael nodded tersely, eyeing a table across the room. It was empty. So empty. So joyfully, blessedly empty. He could picture himself a very happy man at that table. Not feeling very conversational this evening, are we? Colin asked, breaking into his (admittedly tame) fantasies.
Julia Quinn
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Love is blind,” Harriet quipped. “But not illiterate,” Elizabeth retorted.
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I can imagine no greater bliss than to lie about, reading novels all day.
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And I hope you will not think me foolish when I also extend my thanks. Thank you, Michael, for letting my son love her first. —from Janet Stirling, dowager Countess of Kilmartin, to Michael Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin
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Caroline, do you value your neck? Yes, I'm rather fond of it. Why? Because if you don't shut up, I'm going to wring it.
Julia Quinn