Countess Marburg Quotes

To Lillian's surprise, she had been seated near the head of Lord Westcliff's table, only three places away from his right hand. Occupying a place so close to the host was a mark of high favor, very seldom given to an unmarried girl with no rank. Wondering if the footman had make a mistake in seating her there, she glanced cautiously at the faces of those guests nearest her, and saw that they too were puzzled by her presence. Even the countess, who was being seated at the very end of the table, stared at her with a frown.
Lillian gave Lord Westcliff a questioning glance as he took his place at the head of the table. One of his dark brows arched. "Is something amiss? You seem a bit perturbed, Miss Bowman."
The correct response would probably have been to blush and thank him for the unexpected honor. But as Lillian stared at his face, which was softened by the influence of candleglow, she found herself answering with brazen frankness. "I am wondering why I am sitting near the head of the table. In light of what happened this morning, I assumed you would have me seated all the way out on the back terrace."
There was a moment of utter silence as the guests around them registered shock that Lillian would so openly refer to the conflict between them. However, Westcliff astonished them all by laughing quietly, his gaze locked with hers. After a moment, the others joined in with forced chuckles.
"Knowing of your penchant for trouble, Miss Bowman, I have conclud ~ Lisa Kleypas

We are more prone to murmur at the punishment of our faults than to lament them. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

Imagination, which is the Eldorado of the poet and of the novel-writer, often proves the most pernicious gift to the individuals who compose the talkers instead of the writers in society. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

Countess Judith kept her husband's head in a box. At night it perched on the pillow by her side, at meals it sat on the board by her plate, and her household feared it almost as much as they feared her. She talked to it, they whispered among themselves, and who was to say it didn't answer. ~ Sylvian Hamilton

If it is true that there are books written to escape from the present moment, and its meanness and its sordidity, it is certainly true that readers are familiar with a corresponding mood. To draw the blinds and shut the door, to muffle the noises of the street and shade the glare and flicker of its lights - that is our desire. There is then a charm even in the look of the great volumes that have sunk, like the "Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia", as if by their own weight down to the very bottom of the shelf. We like to feel that the present is not all; that other hands have been before us, smoothing the leather until the corners are rounded and blunt, turning the pages until they are yellow and dog's-eared. We like to summon before us the ghosts of those old readers who have read their Arcadia from this very copy - Richard Porter, reading with the splendours of the Elizabethans in his eyes; Lucy Baxter, reading in the licentious days of the Restoration; Thos. Hake, still reading, though now the eighteenth century has dawned with a distinction that shows itself in the upright elegance of his signature. Each has read differently, with the insight and the blindness of his own generation. Our reading will be equally partial. In 1930 we shall miss a great deal that was obvious to 1655; we shall see some things that the eighteenth century ignored. But let us keep up the long succession of readers; let us in our turn bring the insight and the blindness of our own generation to bear up ~ Virginia Woolf

A beautiful woman without fixed principles may be likened to those fair but rootless flowers which float in streams, driven by every breeze. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

Glancing from Marcus to Livia, she exploded, "What is the source of this family's infernal obsession with Americans?"
"What an interesting question, Mother," Livia said drolly. "For some reason none of your offspring can stand the thought of marrying one of their own kind. Why do you suppose that is, Marcus?"
"I suspect the answer would not be flattering to any of us," came his sardonic reply.
-The Countess (their mother), Livia, & Marcus ~ Lisa Kleypas

Madeline (said the Countess in a solemn voice), in my concern for your father, I spoke unguardedly; and I already repent having done so from the situation I see you in: but, as some atonement for doing so, I will take this opportunity of cautioning you against all imprudent curiosity; let no incentive from it ever tempt you to seek an explanation of former occurrences; be assured your happiness depends entirely on your ignorance of them: was the dark volume of your father's fate ever opened to your view, peace would for ever forsake your breast; for its characters are marked by horror, and stained with blood. ~ Regina Maria Roche

The infirmities of genius are often mistaken for its privileges. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

Many minds that have withstood the most severe trials have been broken down by a succession of ignoble cares. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

WHAT CAN YOU HAVE found at Holme to entertain you all this time?" complained Sir Julius, looking at his friend through his quizzing glass. His lordship had come down to London on business. Within the hour, news of his arrival had reached a good number of his acquaintances. He had been invited to dine by three particular friends, and a note had been brought around to his house asking him to present himself at his mother's house as a matter of urgency. Having been in London several days and having failed to abide by her wishes, the earl was bracing himself for an imminent visit from the countess. As his lordship had a very fair notion of what his mother wished to ask him about, he was much relieved to have found Sir Julius upon his doorstep instead. ~ Norma Darcy

But before you do that, inform your master that we have arrived."
"His master," said a biting voice from a rear doorway, "is aware of that."
Elizabeth swung around at the scathing tone of Ian's voice, and her fantasy of seeing him fall to his knees in remorse the moment he set eyes on her collapsed the instant she saw his face; it was as hard and forbidding as a granite sculpture. He did not bother to come forward but instead remained where he was, his shoulder propped negligently against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest, watching her through narrowed eyes. Until then Elizabeth had thought she remembered exactly what he looked like, but she hadn't. Not really. His suede jacket clung to wide shoulders that were broader and more muscular than she'd remembered, and his thick hair was almost black. His face was one of leashed sensuality and arrogant handsomeness with its sculpted mouth and striking eyes, but now she noticed the cynicism in those golden eyes and the ruthless set of his jaw-things she'd obviously been too young and naïve to see before. Everything about him exuded brute strength, and that in turn made her feel even more helpless as she searched his features for some sign that this aloof, forbidding man had actually held and kissed her with seductive tenderness.
"Have you had an edifying look at me, Countess?" he snapped, and before she could recover from the shock of that rude greeting his next words rendered her nearly speechless. "Yo ~ Judith McNaught

Violet pulled a face. "Of course I have great ambition that my children marry well and happily, but I am not the sort who'd marry her daughter off to a seventy-year-old man just because he was a duke!"
"Did the dowager countess do that?" Benedict couldn't recall any seventy-year-old dukes making recent trips to the altar.
"No," Violet admitted, "but she would. Whereas I - "
Benedict bit back a smile as his mother pointed to herself with great flourish.
"I would allow my children to marry paupers if it would bring them happiness."
Benedict raised a brow.
"They would be well-principled and hardworking paupers, of course," Violet explained. "No gamblers need apply."
Benedict didn't want to laugh at his mother, so instead he coughed discreetly into his handkerchief. ~ Julia Quinn

It ain't my problem if the ladies are drawn to me," Digger said. "A gentleman doesn't turn 'em away if they're askin' for a minute or two." His eyes slid to Pippa once more. "Ain't that right, Lady Soon-to-be-a-countess?"
"I find it difficult to believe either that ladies are drawn to you or that, in such a case, you would act the part of a gentleman," Pippa retorted. ~ Sarah MacLean

Love matches are made by people who are content, for a month of honey, to condemn themselves to a life of vinegar. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

He could not deny that the beauty, the youth, the gracefulness, of the countess had made some impression on him: but his nature was entirely averse to all empty gallantry, and his principles forbade any thought of more serious enterprises; so that his perplexity at this moment was in truth extreme. The fear of displeasing the countess, and that of pleasing her too well, were equally busy in his mind. ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

The difference between weakness and wickedness is much less than people suppose; and the consequences are nearly always the same. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

Instantly Pandora nudged her chair with the back of her leg, toppling it over. "Blast," she exclaimed. "How did that happen?"
The countess turned to face her. "Pandora, that word!"
"What should I say when I knock something over?"
There was a brief silence as Lady Berwick considered the question. "You may say 'alas.'"
"'Alas?' Pandora echoed in distaste. "But that's such a flabby word."
"What does it even mean?" Cassandra asked. ~ Lisa Kleypas

The traffic increased when I reached the village, and when I walked into the market square I saw a large crowd gathered at one end. For a few moments I stood uncertainly, wondering whether I ought to leave or find out what the crowd was gathered for.
Suddenly they parted, and without warning two soldiers in brown and green rode side by side straight at me. Dropping my gaze to my dusty feet, I pressed back with the rest of the people on the road near me, and listened with intense relief as their horses cantered by without pausing.
The decision as to whether I should try to find out what was going on was settled for me when the crowd around me surged forward, and a man somewhere behind me called, "Hi, there! Molk! What's toward?"
"Search," a tall, bearded man said, turning. Around me people muttered questions and comments as he added, "That Countess causing all the problems up-mountain. Milord Commander Debegri has taken over the search, and he thinks she might end up this far south."
"Reward?" a woman's shrill voice called from somewhere to the left.
"Promised sixty in pure gold."
"Where from?" someone else yelled. "If it's Debegri, I wouldn't count no gold 'less I had it in hand, and then I'd test it."
This caused a brief, loud uproar of reaction, then the bearded man bellowed, "The King! Sixty for information that proves true. Double that for a body. Preferably alive, though they don't say by how much."
Some laughed, but there was an u ~ Sherwood Smith

The other two groaned. "Over my dead body," Lillian said grimly. "You realize we'll have to resort to creative measures if we're to pry Evie out of her family's clutches and find a good match for her."
"We will," came Daisy's confident reply. "Believe me, dear, if we can find a husband for you, we can do anything."
"That does it," Lillian said, and sprang from the settee to advance menacingly toward her with an upraised cushion.
Giggling, Daisy scrambled behind the nearest piece of furniture and cried, "Remember, you're a countess! Where's your dignity?"
"I've misplaced it," Lillian informed her, and chased after her with glee. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Speaking of debutantes," Jake continued cautiously when Ian remained silent, "what about the one upstairs? Do you dislike her especially, or just on general principle?"
Ian walked over to the table and poured some Scotch into a glass. He took a swallow, shrugged, and said, "Miss Cameron was more inventive than some of her vapid little friends. She accosted me in a garden at a party."
"I can see how bothersome that musta been," Jake joked, "having someone like her, with a face that men dream about, tryin' to seduce you, usin' feminine wiles on you. Did they work?"
Slamming the glass down on the table, Ian said curtly, "They worked." Coldly dismissing Elizabeth from his mind, he opened the deerskin case on the table, removed some papers he needed to review, and sat down in front of the fire.
Trying to suppress his avid curiosity, Jake waited a few minutes before asking, "Then what happened?"
Already engrossed in reading the documents in his hand, Ian said absently and without looking up, "I asked her to marry me; she sent me a note inviting me to meet her in the greenhouse; I went there; her brother barged in on us and informed me she was a countess, and that she was already betrothed."
The topic thrust from his mind, Ian reached for the quill lying on the small table beside his chair and made a note in the margin of the contract.
"And?" Jake demanded avidly.
"And what?"
"And then what happened-after the brother barged in?"
"He ~ Judith McNaught

Alas! there is no casting anchor in the stream of time! ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

A sign on the door proclaimed: The countess is NOT to be bothered except in the cases of death, disembowelment, the Apocalypse, or the arrival of her mother. ~ Courtney Milan

My work is done; I have nothing left to do but to go to my Father. ~ Selina Hastings, Countess Of Huntingdon

There are some chagrins of the heart which a friend ought to try to console without betraying a knowledge of their existence, as there are physical maladies which a physician ought to seek to heal without letting the sufferer know that he has discovered their extent. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

Only vain people wage war against the vanity of others. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

The fear of forgetting anything precious can trigger in us the wish to raise a structure, like a paperweight to hold down our memories. We might even follow the example of the Countess of Mount Edgcumbe, who in the late eighteenth century had a thirty-foot-high Neoclassical obelisk erected on a hill on the outskirts of Plymouth, in memory of an unusually sensitive pig called Cupid, whom she did not hesitate to call a true friend. ~ Alain De Botton

Britain's Advisory Committee on Dangerous Pathogens had lately reclassified herpes B into biohazard level 4, placing it in the elite company of Ebola, Marburg, and the virus that causes Crimean-Congo hemorrhagic fever. National ~ David Quammen

Love in France is a comedy; in England a tragedy; in Italy an opera seria; and in Germany a melodrama. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

The vices of the rich and great are mistaken for error; and those of the poor and lowly, for crimes. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

Yes," Aquitaine said quietly. "The Legions will pay a terrible price so that the residents of Riva can flee. But if they do not, the city will fall into chaos, and the civilians will die." He shook his head. "This way, perhaps half of the legionares will survive the retreat. Even odds. If we are forced to defend the city to our last man, they will all die, Countess. For nothing. And they know it." He nodded. "They'll fight. ~ Jim Butcher

Listeners beware, for ye are doomed never to hear good of yourselves. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

A girl nearby muttered,"If that's a lady, I'm a cat."
Reaching out, Sandry lifted the pitcher of milk from the table. Cradling it in both hands, she walked over to the mutterer.
I am Sandrilene fa Toren, daughter of Count Mattin fer Toren and his countess, Amiliane fa Landreg. I am the great-niece of his grace, Duke Vedris of this realm of Emelan, and cousin of her Imperial Highness, Empress Berenene of the Namorn Empire. You are Esmelle ei Pragin, daughter of Baron Witten en Pragin and his lady Colledia of House Wheelwright, a merchant house. If I tell you my friend is a lady, then you"- carefully she poured milk into Esmelle's plate-"you had best start lapping, kitty."
She set the pitcher down and returned to her chair. ~ Tamora Pierce

The Countess was considerably younger than her husband. All of her clothes came from Paris (this was after Paris) and she had superb taste. (This was after taste too, but only just. And since it was such a new thing, and since the Countess was the only lady in all Florin to posses it, is it any wonder she was the leading hostess in the land?) ~ William Goldman

Women excel more in literary judgment than in literary production,
they are better critics than authors. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

The future: A consolation for those who have no other. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

A profound knowledge of life is the least enviable of all species of knowledge, because it can only be acquired by trials that make us regret the loss of our ignorance. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

But, who is Death? A figure that harrows and wastes wherever and however it pleases. This is also a possible description of the Countess Bathory. Never did anyone wish so hard not to grow old; I mean, to die. That is why, perhaps, she acted and played the role of Death. Because, how can Death possibly die? ~ Alejandra Pizarnik

After a long moment, the Countess sat back down. "So," she said. "You ... do love her. I must say, you look peculiarly resigned to it."
He shrugged. "It is not fresh news for me."
"And for Emma?"
"Neither welcomed nor openly acknowledged."
"But acknowledged all the same, you believe."
"Perhaps," he said. "I cannot know. Not anymore."
-Delphinia, Lady Chad and Julian ~ Meredith Duran

Both the countess and Sonya understood that, naturally, neither Moscow, nor the burning of Moscow, nor anything else, could seem of importance to Natasha. ~ Leo Tolstoy

Mediocrity is beneath a brave soul. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington

He who would remain honest ought to keep away want. ~ Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington