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foolish men say things in anger that they later regret and an angry tongue does not mean one is guilty.

Julie Garwood

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Julie Garwood
Age: 77
Born: 1946
Born: December 26
Novelist
Writer
Kansas City
Missouri
Things
Guilty
Men
Tongue
Anger
Regret
Angry
Later
Doe
Mean
Foolish

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What did you say to the messanger mi'lady? Do you remember the exact words of your last proposal? I probably said, Will you marry me? Connor smiled. He pulled her toward him, lowered his head and kissed her just long enough to stun her. He lifted his head then, looked into her eyes, and finally spoke to her. Yes Brenna. I will marry you.
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Oh, there was a wedding all right. Did I mention that my sister didn't show up at the church either, Mr. Clayborne?
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She sat down at the table and spent a good hour talking about her husband. She told Judith how they'd met, how he relentlessly pursued her, and finished by mentioning just a hundred or two of his special qualities. The only thing the man wasn't capable of was walking on water… yet. Judith made that comment when her friend paused for breath.
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Daydreams were dangerous because they made her wish for things she could never have.
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You'll be sorry if you marry a man you don't love.
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Respect was earned, not demanded, but dignity was taught by example.
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You've given me value, Dun­can. In my heart I know I mat­ter to you.
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In a low whisper she was certain only her friend could hear, she said, I specifically remember we both promised never to drink from any man's goblet of wine. From the looks of you, Frances Catherine, I'm thinking you broke your word.
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He'd gone to Louddon's fortress to take Madelyne captive. His plan was revenge an eye for an eye. And that had been reason enough. Until she'd warmed his feet. Everything had changed at that moment. Duncan had known with a certainty he couldn't deny that they were henceforth bound together. He could never let her go.
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One whisper, added to a thousand others, becomes a roar of discontent
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Let go of me or slow down, she demanded as she tried to keep pace with him. He slowed down. I swear to God, you try the patience of a saint. You aren't a saint, Brodick, no matter what your mother might have told you.
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I know the truth now. You've figured out I'm falling in love with you and you're trying to make me stop by hurting me this way. Well it won't work.
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The chaos surrounding her was confusing. Everyone was suddenly talking at the same time. Perhaps she should try to swoon after all, Christine considered. No, the settee was already taken, and the floor didn't look all that appealing. She settled on wringing her hands. It was the best she could do to look upset.
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But she would never forget Brodick... or the spontaneous kiss he'd given her that had meant nothing to him and everything to her.
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I've just vowed my love for you. Have you nothing to say in return? Duncan asked. Thank you, husband.
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My wife. By what name is she called, Kincaid? Mine.
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Madelyne, we're married now. 'Tis a usual occurrence to bed one's wife on the wedding night.
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Education isn't just about feeding the brain. Art and music feed the heart and soul.
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Every man has a weakness!” he patiently explained. “I'll find theirs, I promise you.” “Every man?” “Yes,” he answered emphatically. ... “What is your weakness, Brodick?” she asked. “You.
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Going to university is only one avenue to gain knowledge. There are others. A degree isn't insurance against ignorance.
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