Kathleen Winsor Quotes

It seemed that up until this moment she had been only half alive.

War makes strangers bedfellows ...

Half the joys and half the sorrows of this world are discovered in bed.

The end of anything is a relief. In every relationship, even the most valuable, there are certain unpleasant tensions - and the ending of it snaps those taut inner wires.

There's an old press-agents' slogan that's good advice: Don't read your publicity - weigh it.

Death was democratic. It made no choice between the rich and the poor, the beautiful and the ugly, the young and the old.

Success is often harder to take than failure ...

Her honey-coloured hair fell in heavy wavesbelow her shoulders and as she stared up at him her eyes, clear, speckled amber, seemed to tilt at the corners; her brows were black and swept up in arcs, and she had thick black lashesh. There was about her a kind of warm luxuriance, something immediately suggestive to the men of pleasurable fulfillment- something for which she was not responsible but of which she was acutely conscious.

There are only two ways to make a lot [of money] while you're young: One is to entertain the public; and the other is to cheat it.

[Sex] is something big and cosmic. What else do we have? There's only birth and death and the union of two people - and sex is the only one that happens to us more than once.

She was luxuriously tired and her muscles felt sore from the unaccustomed strain of riding astride. Nothing had ever tasted so good as the cool golden ale she swallowed from a pewter tankard. She slept deeply that night and longer than she had intended ...

I've got a penny-ante talent, out of which I try to drum up a living for myself. And what nobody seems to realize is that it's just as difficult to get a bad idea as a good one.

Most people are so busy knocking themselves out trying to do everything they think they should do, they never get around to what they want to do.

Everything matters, but nothing matters very much.

It was a woman's bedroom, actually a boudoir, and no man belonged in it except by invitation.

Charm is the ability to make someone else think that both of you are pretty wonderful.

Maybe that's all anyone who writes or paints or sculpts is doing anyway
excusing themselves for refusing to live like other people or be like them.

They had stopped now and he gave a glance up at the sky, through the trees, as though to see how much time was left. Amber, watching him, was suddenly struck with panic. Now he was going
out again into that great world with its bustle and noise and excitement
and she must stay here. She had a terrible new feeling of loneliness, as if she stood in some solitary corner at a party where she was the only stranger. Those places he had seen, she would never see; those fine things he had done, she would never do. But worst of all she would never see him again.

There's one thing I've always known: You can let people suspect anything else about you, but you must never let them suspect you of knowing what you're doing.

The king appeared ... with his dogs and sycophants behind him.

Edward Progers was his Majesty's Page of the Backstairs. He handled private money transactions, secret correspondence, and served in an ex-officio capacity as the King's pimp. It was a position of no mean prestige, and of considerable activity.