Jacqueline E. Smith Quotes

There is no such thing as perfect. But even if there was, I would pick you over perfection any day.

God, everything is wasted on the living.

Showmen's Rest was truly something to behold. Throughout the entire yard, statues and carvings of elephants, clowns, and tight-rope walkers danced on the gray and white surfaces of tombstones and grave-markers. For the first time, Michael got the feeling that the men and women who'd been buried there were probably really happy with their final resting place. It was a touching tribute, one that honored their passion in life and that had been constructed out of love and respect.

Like I said, it's weird being in love with your best friend.
It'seven weirder when the rest of the world is in love with him, too.

Even if I didn't believe in ghosts, I think I'd always be looking for a reason to believe in them.

For as long as he could remember, Michael had felt caught somewhere between the world of the living and the world of the dead. But in everything he thought and everything he did, he'd always chosen life.

Love was more than just a fleeting desire, or a brief glimpse into a fairy tale, or a flash of playful flirtation in her beautiful hazel eyes. It was more than infatuation with a person's best qualities, or reluctant acceptance of their less appealing traits. Real love meant loving the whole person, in every form, in every state, in every way. It was what transformed the ordinary monotony of everyday life into extraordinary moments of warmth and compassion and joy.

You know... It's been a long time since I've been that nervous."
"You were nervous?" I ask. "Why?"
"I'm making love to a romance author," he explains with a grin. "Your standards are high."
"My standards are fictional.

You do know that I can't just will mythical beings into existence, right?"
"Not with that attitude, you can't.

I've seen too much of what the spotlight can do to a person to ever crave it for myself.

After walking the Royal Mile, we visit Edinburgh Castle. Overlooking the city from the grassy hilltop of the Castle Rock, the fortress itself looks as though it has been carved from the very stone upon which it sits. It is powerful yet elegant, lavish yet wholly inviting to anyone fortunate enough to find themselves standing at the castle gate. These are doors and walls and windows that have seen kings and queens, saints and sinners, voyagers from all corners of the world. And now us.

In my stories, I wrote Malcolm as fire and gold and power, but here in my arms, Colin is cedar, silver, and summer air.

Century and after century, headstones and grave markers were crafted, marble shrines to lost life and to bodies that could neither see nor touch nor think nor feel, bodies that were respected and appreciated more after death than some ever could have hoped to be in life.

I haven't even been here an hour and already, Edinburgh is the city of my dreams.

Music is powerful. It sets the mind and body and soul free in a way that I've need fully been able to understand. Maybe because it's not meant to be understood. It's simply meant to be experienced.

I know they say that a picture's worth a thousand words, but it's amazing how often those words tell the wrong story.

Someone always dies. Someone is always left behind.

Is this one of those bizarre instances where someone stepped on a bug and accidentally rewove the tapestry of fate? Because I'm pretty sure if the universe were in any sort of proper alignment, I would not have ended up in Colin Ward's arms in a hotel room in Inverness.

God, can you imagine what discovering the Loch Ness Monster would do to Luke's ego?

It's so easy to be around people when everything is ... well ... easy. But the people who've been with you through thick and thin, who've seen you at your absolute worst, and who still want to hang out with you at the end of the day?
If that isn't family, I don't know what is.

There, standing before the mausoleum, Michael's anxiety skyrocketed. His heart raced. His head spun. His stomach turned. For a few moments, he really thought he was going to have to run to the bushes and puke. He'd never heard of a ghost being able to actually curse someone, but he didn't want to risk it by vomiting on Bluidy Mackenzie's front lawn.

As someone who's lived most of her life in a small town surrounded by woods, I've never appreciated how so many horror enthusiasts flock to the forest for inspiration.

If this investigation is as eventful as I'm hoping it will be, it will be traumatizing for all of us," Luke said.
"Oh, please don't hope that," Michael deadpanned.