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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.

Julia Quinn

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Julia Quinn
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 12
Author
Writer
Evergreen State
Julie Cotler
Julie Pottinger
Waiting
Fraught
Easy
Occurred
True
Utterly
Might
Plain
Even
Hadn
Something
Drama
Love
Comfortable
Passion

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Weakness never got anyone anywhere.
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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 shall have one, too, he told her. So that you don't feel alone. She tried not to smile. That is most generous of you. I am quite certain it is my gentlemanly duty. To eat cake? It is one of the more appealing of my gentlemanly duties, he allowed.
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A lot could happen in a week. Just look at the last one.
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There were rules among friends, commandments, really, and the most important one was Thou Shalt Not Lust After Thy Friend's Sister.
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Not that I wish to give you any ammunition, but the sad fact of it is-most men are sheep. Where one goes, the rest will follow. And didn't you say you wished to be married?' 'Not to someone who follows you as the lead sheep.
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Daphne felt something wild and wicked take hold. “Let’s walk in the garden,” she said softly. “We can’t.” “We must.” “We can’t.
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No one knows as well as I how much nonsense is printed in books.
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It was funny, he reflected later, how one’s life could alter in an instant, how one minute everything could be a certain way, and the next it’s simply ... not
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Love is blind,” Harriet quipped. “But not illiterate,” Elizabeth retorted.
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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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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.
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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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To call that writing, madam, is an insult to quills and ink across the world.
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No. Haven’t you been listening?” Marcus would always remember that moment. It was to be the first time he would ever be faced with that most vexing of female quirks: the question that had nothing but wrong answers.
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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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Caroline Trent hadn't meant to shoot Percival Prewitt, but she had, and now he was dead. Or at least she thought he was dead.
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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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Most fiction series are written so that the reader can come in at any point and not feel lost, but if you can start at the beginning, why not?
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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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