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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
Wells
Journal
Well
Someday
Going
Smart
Really
Grow
Think
Already
Thinking
Grows
Keep
Beautiful
Nodded

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To say that men can be bullheaded would be insulting to the bull.
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He wondered if she'd mind if he threw her down on the blanket and tore off her clothing. (..) She looked heartbreakingly innocent. Alex sighed. She'd probably mind.
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Sometimes Hen...I think I would give my life just for one of your smiles.
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I’m not certain you’d know the right sort of man for you if he arrived on our doorstep riding an elephant.” “I would think the elephant would be a fairly good indication that I ought to look elsewhere.
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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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His brows rose. “And how is it that you have come to be such an expert on scrapes and bruises?” “I’m a governess,” she said. Because really, that ought to be explanation enough.
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He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. And he needed her now.
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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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You might wish to revisit your understanding of the word everything.” Gregory turned to his mother. “Vocabulary and comprehension were never her strong suits.” Violet rolled her eyes. “Every day I marvel that the two of you managed to reach adulthood.” “Afraid we’d kill each other?” Gregory quipped. “No, that I’d do the job myself.
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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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Am I not allowed to have my pride? Or is that an emotion reserved for the elite?
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As his hands moved to his trousers, he saw that she was pulling the bedsheets over her. Don't, he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Her eyes met his, and he said, I'll be your blanket.
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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 do not tell you often enough, dear Mother, how very grateful I am that I am yours. It is a rare parent who would offer a child such latitude and understanding. It is an even rarer one who calls a daughter friend. I do love you, dear Mama.
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There was a certain history to this. While heavily pregnant with Amelia, she had asked him if she was radiant or if she just looked like a waddling duck. He told her she’d looked like a radiant duck. This had not been the correct answer.
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Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Cousin‟s Wife. Moses must have forgotten to write that one down
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The girl doesn’t need a violin,” he added. “She needs to have her hands bound so she can never touch an instrument again.
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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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It was heaven. Forget angels, forget St. Peter and glittering harpsichords. Heaven was a dance in the arms of one's true love.
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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