During the day, memories could be held at bay, but at night, dreams became the devil's own accomplices.

I inhale hope with every breath I take.

I'd just rather not reap a crop every year.

There is nothing worse than an enemy with imagination.

I’ll admit that my garden now grows hope in lavish profusion, leaving little room for anything else. I suppose it has squeezed out more practical plants like caution and common sense. Still, though, hope does not flourish in every garden, and I feel thankful it has taken root in mine.

Poor Wales. So far from Heaven, so close to England.

It was just like him, she thought with him, a happy ending was always a foregone conclusion. But such was the power of his faith that when she was with him she found herself believing in happy endings, too.

When does he ever think? Richard straddled a chair and accepted a wind cup from Raoul. If he were to sell his brain, he could claim it had never been used., Chapter 7

Men are born to sin…What does matter most, is not that we err, it is that we do benefit from our mistakes, that we are capable of sincere repentance, of genuine contrition.

We tend to forget at times that it is the little ones, the children, who do suffer the greatest hurt. If we cannot comprehend why certain sorrows are visited upon us, how on earth can they?

...A scar signifies past pain, a wound that did not heal as it ought. But it testifies, too, to survival...(Here be Dragons)

Abigail Adams could become my favorite historical sleuth.