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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.

Julia Quinn

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Julia Quinn
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 12
Author
Writer
Evergreen State
Julie Cotler
Julie Pottinger
Well
Someday
Going
Smart
Really
Grow
Think
Already
Thinking
Grows
Keep
Beautiful
Nodded
Wells
Journal

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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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Raw toast, Lucas said grimly, shaking his head. It goes against the very nature of man.
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She tried to remind herself that beauty was only skin deep, but that didn't offer any helpful excuses when she was berating herself for never knowing what to say to people. There was nothing more depressing than an ugly girl with no personality.
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I can imagine no greater bliss than to lie about, reading novels all day.
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I have thoroughly compromised your niece, Alex declared. Will you plase insist that she marry me? Caroline didn't bat an eyelash. This, she announced, is most peculiar.
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To say that men can be bullheaded would be insulting to the bull.
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Any man, you'll soon learn, has an insurmountable need to blame someone else when he is made to look a fool.
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Nonetheless, I can't help but be flattered that you noticed the latest addition to my collection, he said. She rolled her eyes. Because personal injuries are such a dignified thing to collect. Are all governesses so sarcastic?
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Oh, Elizabeth, he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on her mouth, I love you so much. You must believe me. I believe you, she said softly, because in your eyes, I see what I feel in my heart.
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Love works in mysterious ways.
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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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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.
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Blake took a small roll from the tray on the table, then put it back in favor of a larger one. And maybe a little butter. It certainly couldn't hurt. And jam...no, he drew the line at jam. She was a spy, after all.
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Men are sheep. Where one goes, the rest will soon follow. -Lady Whistledown
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Reformed rakes make the best husbands,Violet said. Rubbish and you know it. -Anthony to Violet
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Love is blind,” Harriet quipped. “But not illiterate,” Elizabeth retorted.
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A lot could happen in a week. Just look at the last one.
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He smiled, and suddenly she knew that his words were true. Everything would be all right. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Tragedy couldn't coexist in a world with one of Colin's smiles.
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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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I have friends who have children, and they have told me how remarkable it is to have a new life that is a piece of your own flesh anf blood. But I -- I realized that I didn't love her because she was a piece of me, I loved her because she was a piece of you.
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