Hyacinth Bridgerton Quotes

Speaking of which," he murmured.
Hyacinth's mouth fell open as he dropped down to one
knee. "What are you doing?" she squeaked, frantically
looking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peeking
out at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.
"Someone will see," she whispered.
He seemed unconcerned. "People will say we're in
love."
"I - " Good heavens, but how did a woman argue
against that?
"Hyacinth Bridgerton," he said, taking her hand in his,
"will you marry me?"
She blinked in confusion. "I already said I would."
"Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.
They were mostly the right reasons, but not all."
"I - I - " She was stumbling on the words, choking on
the emotion.
He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear and
blue in the dim light of the streetlamps. "I am asking you
to marry me because I love you," he said ~ Julia Quinn

It is of no concern. I don't mind that I am not universally adored. If I wanted everyone to like me, I'd have to be kind and charming and bland and boring all the time, and what would be the fun in that? ~ Julia Quinn

If you want to know if a gentleman loves you," her mother said, "there is only one true way to be sure."
"It's in his kiss," her mother whispered. "It's all there, in his kiss. ~ Julia Quinn

But Hyacinth Bridgerton, who at ten should have known the least about kisses of anyone, just blinked thoughtfully, and said, I think it's nice. If they're laughing now, they'll probably be laughing forever. ~ Julia Quinn

You're going to be my grandmother."
"You silly child. In my heart, I've been your grandmother for years. I've just been waiting for you to make it official. ~ Julia Quinn

Hyacinth," he said.
She looked at him expectantly.
"Hyacinth," he said again, this time with a bit more certitude. He smiled, letting his eyes melt into hers. "Hyacinth."
"We know her name," came his grandmother's voice.
Gareth ignored her and pushed a table aside so that he could drop to one knee. "Hyacinth," he said, relishing her gasp as he took her hand in his, "would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?"
Her eyes widened, the misted, and her lips, which he'd been kissing so deliciously mere hours earlier, began to quiver. "I ... I ... "
It was unlike her to be so without words, and he was enjoying it, especially the show of emotion on her face.
"I ... I ... "
"Yes!" his grandmother finally yelled. "Yes! She'll marry you!"
"She can speak for herself," he said.
"No," Lady D said, "she can't. Quite obviously. ~ Julia Quinn

Not that I wish to give you any ammunition, but the sad fact of it is-most men are sheep. Where one goes, the rest will follow. And didn't you say you wished to be married?'
'Not to someone who follows you as the lead sheep. ~ Julia Quinn

But she was already in. Gareth couldn't help but stand back in admiration. Hyacinth Bridgerton was clearly a natural born athlete.
Either that or a cat burglar. ~ Julia Quinn

People will think you're courting me.'
'Nonsense, everyone knows I don't court respectable women. ~ Julia Quinn

Hyacinth," Lady Bridgerton said in a vaguely disapproving voice, "do try to speak in complete sentences."
Hyacinth looked at her mother with a surprised expression. "Biscuits. Are. Good." She cocked her head to the side. "Noun. Verb. Adjective."
"Hyacinth."
"Noun. Verb. Adjective." Colin said, wiping a crumb from his grinning face. "Sentence. Is. Correct. ~ Julia Quinn

I would give the world to have one more person for whom I would lay down my life. ~ Julia Quinn

She tried to remind herself that beauty was only skin deep, but that didn't offer any helpful excuses when she was berating herself for never knowing what to say to people. There was nothing more depressing than an ugly girl with no personality. ~ Julia Quinn

But that's not what I'm trying to tell you," Violet said, her eyes taking on a slightly determined expression. "What I'm trying to say is that when you were born, and they put you into my arms - it's strange, because for some reason I was so convinced you would look just like your father. I thought for certain I would look down and see his face, and it would be some sort of sign from heaven."

Hyacinth's breath caught as she watched her, and she wondered why her mother had never told her this story. And why she'd never asked.

"But you didn't," Violet continued. "You looked rather like me. And then - oh my, I remember this as if it were yesterday - you looked into my eyes, and you blinked. Twice."

"Twice?" Hyacinth echoed, wondering why this was important.

"Twice." Violet looked at her, her lips curving into a funny little smile. "I only remember it because you looked so deliberate. It was the strangest thing. You gave me a look as if to say, 'I know exactly what I'm doing.' "

A little burst of air rushed past Hyacinth's lips, and she realized it was a laugh. A small one, the kind that takes a body by surprise.

"And then you let out a wail," Violet said, shaking her head. "My heavens, I thought you were going to shake the paint right off the walls. And I smiled. It was the first time since your father died that I smiled."

Violet took a breath, then reached for her tea. Hyacinth watched as her mother co ~ Julia Quinn

You are far too generous," he said.
She smiled, a real smile this time. "I am rarely accused of that, Mr. Bridgerton."
He laughed. Right out loud in the middle of the ballroom.
Kate realized with discomfort that they were suddenly the object of numerous curious stares.
"You," he said, still sounding most heartily amused, "must meet my brother."
"The viscount?" she asked with disbelief.
"Well, you might enjoy Gregory's company as well," he allowed, "but as I said, he is only thirteen and likely to put a frog on your chair."
"And the viscount?"
"Is not likely to put a frog on your chair," he said with an utterly straight face.

-Colin & Kate ~ Julia Quinn

Daphne felt something wild and wicked take hold. "Let's walk in the garden," she said softly.
"We can't."
"We must."
"We can't. ~ Julia Quinn

Where is he? Bridgerton!" he bellowed.
Three chestnut heads swiveled in his direction. Simon stomped across the grass, murder in his eyes.
"I meant the idiot Bridgerton."
"That, I believe," Anthony said mildly, tilting his chin toward Colin, "would refer to you. ~ Julia Quinn

Stop! Stop!"
Sophie shrieked with laughter as she ran down the stone steps that led to the garden behind Bridgerton House. After three children and seven years of marriage, Benedict could still make her smile, still make her laugh . . . and he still chased her around the house any chance he could get.
"Where are the children?" she gasped, once he'd caught her at the base of the steps.
"Francesca is watching them."
"And your mother?"
He grinned. "I daresay Francesca is watching her, too."
"Anyone could stumble upon us out here," she said, looking this way and that.
His smile turned wicked. "Maybe," he said, catching hold of her green-velvet skirt and reeling her in, "we should adjourn to the private terrace."
The words were oh-so-familiar, and it was only a second before she was transported back nine years to the masquerade ball.
"The private terrace, you say?" she asked, amusement dancing in her eyes. "And how, pray tell, would you know of a private terrace?"
His lips brushed against hers. "I have my ways," he murmured.
"And I," she returned, smiling slyly, "have my secrets."
He drew back. "Oh? And will you share?"
"We five," she said with a nod, "are about to be six."
He looked at her face, then looked at her belly. "Are you sure?"
"As sure as I was last time."
He took her hand and raised it to lips. "This one will be a girl."
"That's what you said last time."
"I know, ~ Julia Quinn

Avoiding puddles, stepping over mats of hyacinth leaves that remained in place. Breathing the dank air. ~ Jhumpa Lahiri

So Recklessly Exposed

December and January, gone.
Tulips coming up. It's time to watch
how trees stagger in the wind
and roses never rest.

Wisteria and Jasmine twist on themselves.
Violet kneels to Hyacinth, who bows.

Narcissus winks, wondering what will
the lightheaded Willow say
of such slow dancing by Cypress.

Painters come outdoors with brushes.
I love their hands.

The birds sing suddenly and all at once.
The soul says Ya Hu, quietly.

A dove calls, Where, ku?
Soul, you will find it.

Now the roses show their breasts.
No one hides when the Friend arrives.

The Rose speaks openly to the Nightingale.
Notice how the Green Lily has several tongues
but still keeps her secret.

Now the Nightingale sings this love
that is so recklessly exposed, like you. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi

But if he had indeed blushed-and his cheeks did feel a touch warm-neither of his brothers saw it, because they didn't say anything, and if there was anything in life as certain as, say, the sun rising in the east,it was that a Bridgerton never passed up the opportunity to tease and torment another Bridgerton.
"She's been talking about Penelope Featherington nonstop," Colin said with a scowl. "I tell you, I've known the girl since we were both in short pants. Er, since I was in short pants, at least. She was in..." He scowled some more, because both his brothers were laughing at him. "She was in whatever it is that young girls wear."
"Frocks?" Anthony supplied helpfully.
"Petticoats?" was Benedict's suggestion.
"The point is," Colin said forcefully, "that I have known her forever, and I can assure you I am not likely to fall in love with her."
Anthony turned to Benedict and said, "They'll be married within a year.Mark my words."
Colin crossed his arms. "Anthony!"
"Maybe two," Benedict said. "He's young yet."
"Unlike you," Colin retorted. "Why am I besiged by Mother, I wonder? Good God, you're thirty-one-"
"Thirty," Benedict snapped.
"Regardless, one would think you'd be getting the brunt of it. ~ Julia Quinn

Honoria nodded and was about to say something utterly
forgettable when she saw that his hand had been bandaged.
"I hope your injury is not severe," she said politely.
"Oh, this?" he held up his hand. His fingers were free to waggle,
but the rest of it looked rather like a mitt. "It's nothing. An
altercation with a letter opener."
"Well, please do be careful of infection," Honoria said,
somewhat more forcefully than was de rigueur. "If it grows red, or
swollen, or even worse, yellow, then you must see a doctor at
once."
"Green?" he quipped.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You listed so many colors about which I must be wary."
For a moment Honoria could only stare. Wound infection was
not a laughing matter.
"Lady Honoria?" he murmured.
She decided to proceed as if he'd said nothing. "Most
importantly, you must watch for reddish streaks spreading from the
wound. Those are the worst."
He blinked, but if he was startled by the turn of the
conversation, he did not show it. Instead he looked down at his
hand with a curious eye and said, "How red?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"How red do the streaks have to be before I must worry?"
"How do you know so much about medicine?" Lady Danbury
cut in.
"Do you know, I'm not sure how red," Honoria told Mr.
Bridgerton. "I would think anything stripey ought to be a cause for
alarm. ~ Julia Quinn

No words for the passion. No words for the need.No words for the sheer epiphany of the moment.And so, on an otherwise unremarkable Friday afternoon, in the heart of Mayfair, in a quiet drawing room on Mount Street, Colin Bridgerton kissed Penelope Featherington.And it was glorious. ~ Julia Quinn

In the early twentieth century, the Congress of our great nation debated a glorious plan to resolve a meat shortage in America. The idea was this: import hippos and raise them in Louisiana's bayous. The hippos would eat the ruinously invasive water hyacinth; the American people would eat the hippos; everyone would go home happy. Well, except the hippos. They'd go home eaten. Much to everyone's disappointment, Congress didn't follow through on the plan, and today America lives a cursed life - a beef life, with nary a free-range hippo within the borders of our country. ~ Sarah Gailey

An awkward pause fell across the conversation. Daphne was shifting from foot to foot, not at all certain what to say to the duke, when Nigel exhibited stellar timing for the first time in his life, and sat up.
"Daphne?" he said, blinking as if he couldn't see straight. "Daphne, is that you?"
"Good God, Miss Bridgerton," the duke swore, "how hard did you hit him?"
"Hard enough to knock him down, but no worse than that, I swear!" Her brow furrowed. "Maybe he is drunk."
"Oh, Daphne," Nigel moaned.
The duke crouched next to him, then reeled back, coughing.
"Is he drunk?" Daphne asked.
The duke staggered back. "He must have drunk an entire bottle of whiskey just to get up the nerve to propose."
"Who would have thought I could be so terrifying?" Daphne murmured, thinking of all the men who thought of her as a jolly good friend and nothing more. "How wonderful."
Simon stared at her as if she were insane, then muttered, "I'm not even going to question that statement. ~ Julia Quinn

Anthony Bridgerton leaned back in his leather chair,and then announced,
"I'm thinking about getting married."
Benedict Bridgerton, who had been indulging in a habit his mother detested - tipping his chair drunkenly on the back two legs - fell over.
Colin Bridgerton started to choke.
Luckily for Colin, Benedict regained his seat with enough time to smack him soundly on the back, sending a green olive sailing across the table.
It narrowly missed Anthony's ear. ~ Julia Quinn

A-Actually, the flower that sprang up would have been the iris or larkspur, not the modern hyacinth, but that is how it earned its name."
"Fascinating." His unfathomable eyes locked onto hers.
Elizabeth knew he was referring to her and not the history of the hyacinth, and though she commanded herself to move out of his reach, her legs refused to budge.
"Absolutely fascinating," he murmured again, and in slow motion she watched his hands reach out and gently grasp her shoulders, rubbing lightly. "Last night you were ready to do battle with a roomful of men because they dared believe I'd cheated, yet now you're afraid. Is it me you fear, sweetheart? Or something else?"
The endearment spoken in his rich baritone voice had the same stirring effect on her as the touch of his lips. "I'm afraid of the things you make me feel," she admitted desperately, trying to get control of herself and the situation. "I realize that this is merely a-a little weekend dalliance-"
"Liar," he teased, and he took her lips in a sweet, swift kiss. Her mind reeled from the brief touch, but the moment he lifted his mouth from hers she rushed into frightened speech. "Thank you," she blurted inanely. "H-Hyacinths are not the only flower with an interesting history. There are lilies, too, which are also part of the genus-"
A lazy, seductive grin swept across his handsome face, and, to Elizabeth's helpless horror, her gaze fastened on his mouth. She couldn't still the shiver of a ~ Judith McNaught

The duke nudged his ball a bit forward from the rest of the pile. "You do realize," he said to no one in particular, "that I have never played Pall Mall before?"
"Just give the ball a good whack in that direction, darling," Daphne said, pointing to the first wicket.
"Isn't that the last wicket?" Anthony asked.
"It's the first."
"It ought to be the last."
Daphne's jaw jutted out. "I set up the course, and it's the first."
"I think this might get bloody," Edwina whispered to Kate.
The duke turned to Anthony and flashed him a false smile. "I believe I'll take Daphne's word for it."
"She did set up the course," Kate cut in.
Anthony, Colin, Simon, and Daphne all looked at her in shock, as if they couldn't quite believe she'd had the nerve to enter the conversation.
"Well, she did," Kate said.
Daphne looped her arm through hers. "I do believe I adore you, Kate Sheffield," she announced.
"God help me," Anthony muttered.
The duke drew back his mallet, let fly, and soon the orange ball was hurtling along the lawn.
"Well done, Simon!" Daphne cried out.
Colin turned and looked at his sister with disdain. "One never cheers one's opponents in Pall Mall," he said archly.
"He's never played before," she said. "He's not likely to win."
"Doesn't matter."
Daphne turned to Kate and Edwina and explained, "Bad sportsmanship is a requirement in Bridgerton Pall Mall, I'm afraid."
"I'd ga ~ Julia Quinn

Slowly the sky turned from the color of cornflower to that of hyacinth, and the Ferris wheel at Coney Island appeared like a ring of diamonds against the twilight. New York-that city made of canyons between tall buildings, and ornate houses filled with glittering things that might trap a girl forever-was nothing more than a few dots on an infinite landscape. The atmosphere was crystalline and afforded her a perfect view. Only from this place was she able to see how limited the city was, after everything, and how wide open the world could all of a sudden become. ~ Anna Godbersen

I thought you wanted food," she gasped.
"I do," he murmured, tugging on the bodice of her dress. "But I want you more. ~ Julia Quinn

WILDE: Oh - Bosie! (He weeps.) I have to go back to him, you know. Robbie will be furious but it can't be helped. The betrayal of one's friends is a bagatelle in the stakes of love, but the betrayal of oneself is a lifelong regret. Bosie is what became of me. He is spoiled, vindictive, utterly selfish and not very talented, but these are merely the facts. The truth is he was Hyacinth when Apollo loved him, he is ivory and gold, from his red rose-leaf lips comes music that fills me with joy, he is the only one who understands me. 'Even as a teething child throbs with ferment, so does the soul of him who gazes upon the boy's beauty; he can neither sleep at night nor keep still by day,' and a lot more besides, but before Plato could describe love, the loved one had to be invented. We would never love anybody if we could see past our invention. Bosie is my creation, my poem. In the mirror of invention, love discovered itself. Then we saw what we had made - the piece of ice in the fist you cannot hold or let go. (He weeps.) ~ Tom Stoppard

Bosie has insisted on stopping here for sandwiches. He is quite like a narcissus
so white and gold. I will come either Wednesday or Thursday night to your rooms. Send me a line. Bosie is so tired: he lies like a hyacinth on the sofa, and I worship him. (letter from Oscar Wilde, 1892 - quoted from Love in a dark time by Colm Toibin) ~ Oscar Wilde

First of all, this goes no further than this room."
"Agreed," she said quickly.
Anthony looked pointedly at Simon.
"Of course," he replied.
"Mother would be devastated if she learned the truth."
"Actually," Simon murmured, "I rather think your mother would applaud our ingenuity, but since you have quite obviously known
her longer, I bow to your discretion."
Anthony shot him a frosty look. "Second, under no circumstances are the two of you to be alone together. Ever."
"Well, that should be easy," Daphne said, "as we wouldn't be allowed to be alone if we were courting in truth, anyway."
Simon recalled their brief interlude in the hall at Lady Danbury's house, and found it a pity that he wasn't to be allowed any more private time with Daphne, but he recognized a brick wall when he saw one, especially when said wall happened to be named
Anthony Bridgerton. So he just nodded and murmured his assent.
"Third - "
"There is a third?" Daphne asked.
"There would be thirty if I could think of them," Anthony growled.
"Very well," she acceded, looking most aggrieved. "If you must. ~ Julia Quinn

It takes a super brave person to be as generous as you are, Hyacinth. Not many people ae brave enough to be so loving ~ Karina Yan Glaser

Fragment of the Elegy on the Death of Bion
From the Greek of Moschus
Published from the Hunt manuscripts by Forman, "Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1876.
Ye Dorian woods and waves, lament aloud,
Augment your tide, O streams, with fruitless tears,
For the beloved Bion is no more.
Let every tender herb and plant and flower,
From each dejected bud and drooping bloom,
Shed dews of liquid sorrow, and with breath
Of melancholy sweetness on the wind
Diffuse its languid love; let roses blush,
Anemones grow paler for the loss
Their dells have known; and thou, O hyacinth,
Utter thy legend now - yet more, dumb flower,
Than 'Ah! alas!' - thine is no common grief
Bion the [sweetest singer] is no more.
NOTE:
_2 tears]sorrow (as alternative) Hunt manuscript ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.
A shiver raced down Daphne's spine, causing her to sway. In just a moment, she would belong to this man forever.
Simon's head turned slightly, his eyes darting to her face. Are you all right? his eyes asked.
She nodded, a tiny little jog of her chin that only he could see. Something blazed in his eyes - could it be relief?
I now pronounce you -
Gregory sneezed for a fourth time, then a fifth and sixth, completely obliterating the archbishop's "man and wife." Daphne felt a horrifying bubble of mirth pushing up her throat. She pressed her lips together, determined to maintain an appropriately serious facade.
Marriage, after all, was a solemn institution, and not one to be treating as a joke.
She shot a glance at Simon, only to find that he was looking at her with a queer expression. His pale eyes were focused on her mouth, and the corners of his lips began to twitch.
Daphne felt that bubble of mirth rising ever higher.
You may kiss the bride.
Simon grabbed her with almost desperate arms, his mouth crashing down on hers with a force that drew a collective gasp from the small assemblage of guests.
And then both sets of lips - bride and groom - burst into laughter, even as they remained entwined.
Violet Bridgerton later said it was the oddest kiss she'd ever been privileged to view.
Gregory Bridgerton - when he finished sneezing - said it ~ Julia Quinn

It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret, especially from her
sisters, the youngest of whom - Hyacinth - could probably have won the war against Napoleon in half
the time if His Majesty had only thought to draft her into the espionage service. ~ Julia Quinn

But Benedict Bridgerton was obviously determined not to be a gentleman this afternoon, because when she moved one of her feet-just to flex her toes, which were falling asleep in her shoes, honest!-barely half a second passed before he growled, "Don't even think about it."
"I wasn't!" she protested. "My foot was falling asleep. And hurry up! It can't possibly take so long to get dressed."
"Oh?" he drawled.
"You're doing this just to torture me," she grumbled.
"You may feel free to face me at any time," he said, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "I assure you that I asked you to turn your back for the sake of your sensibilities, not mine. ~ Julia Quinn

So he decided to stay out of it and instead turned back
to Lady Bridgerton, who was, as it happened, the closest
person to him, anyway. "And how are you this afternoon?"
he asked.
Lady Bridgerton gave him a very small smile as she
handed him his cup of tea. "Smart man," she murmured.
"It's self-preservation, really," he said noncommittally.
"Don't say that. They wouldn't hurt you."
"No, but I'm sure to be injured in the cross fire. ~ Julia Quinn

Translate into words for me the sighings of the wind through the forest and the withdrawal of the sea down the pebbly beach and the string of sunlight playing on the hyacinth-strewn grass. You cannot! Then you know why the apostle described his experiences in Paradise as unspeakable. ~ F.B. Meyer

Honoria couldn't help but watch her make her way over to
Daisy, and Mr. Bridgerton said, "Don't worry, she's mostly
harmless."
"My cousin Daisy?" she asked dubiously.
"No," he replied, momentarily nonplussed. "Lady Danbury."
Honoria looked past him to Daisy and Lady Danbury. "Is she
deaf?"
"Your cousin Daisy?"
"No, Lady Danbury."
"I don't believe so."
"Oh." Honoria winced. "That's too bad. She might be by the
time Daisy is through with her.
"That's not going to end well," he murmured.
Honoria could do nothing but shake her head and murmur,
"No."
"Is your cousin fond of her toes?"
Honoria blinked in confusion. "I believe so, yes."
"She'll want to watch that cane, then."
Honoria looked back just in time to see Daisy let out a small
shriek as she tried to jump back. She was not successful with the
latter; Lady Danbury's cane had her pinned rather firmly. ~ Julia Quinn

Well, for one thing, about whether you'll make a good husband," she snapped back, finally goaded into anger.
He drew back. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Your past behavior, to start with," she replied, narrowing her eyes. "You haven't exactly been the
model of Christian rectitude."
"This, coming from the woman who ordered me to strip off my clothing earlier this afternoon?" he
taunted.
"Don't be ugly," she said in a low voice.
"Don't push my temper."

-Michael Fielding and Francesca Bridgerton ~ Julia Quinn

I cannot feel like a duchess in my
mother's sitting room."
"What do you feel like, then?"
"Hmmm." She took a sip of her tea. "Just Daphne
Bridgerton, I suppose. It's difficult to shed the surname in
this clan. In spirit, that is."
"I hope that is a compliment," Lady Bridgerton remarked.
Daphne just smiled at her mother. "I shall never escape
you, I'm afraid." She turned to Gareth. "There is nothing like one's family to make one feel like one has never
grown up. ~ Julia Quinn

You have to live each hour as if it's your last and each day as if you were immortal. - Kate Sheffield ~ Julia Quinn

In your
Curled petals what ghosts
Of blue headlands and seas,
What perfumed immortal breath sighing
Of Greece. ~ Adelaide Crapsey

You are a terrible liar, did you know that?" He straightened, tugging slightly at his waistcoat as he lifted his chin. "Actually, I'm an excellent liar. But what I'm really good at is appearing appropriately sheepish and adorable after I'm caught." What, Penelope wondered, was she meant to say to that? Because surely there was no one more adorably sheepish (sheepishly adorable?) than Colin Bridgerton with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes flitting along the ceiling, and his lips puckered into an innocent whistle. ~ Julia Quinn

I first tasted under Apollo's lips,
love and love sweetness,
I, Evadne;
my hair is made of crisp violets
or hyacinth which the wind combs back
across some rock shelf;
I, Evadne,
was made of the god of light.
His hair was crisp to my mouth,
as the flower of the crocus,
across my cheek,
cool as the silver-cress
on Erotos bank;
between my chin and throat,
his mouth slipped over and over.
Still between my arm and shoulder,
I feel the brush of his hair,
and my hands keep the gold they took,
as they wandered over and over,
that great arm-full of yellow flowers. ~ H.D.

The Smythe-Smith musicale. Thankfully, it came around just once per year, because Hyacinth was quite
certain it would take a full twelve months for her ears to
recover. ~ Julia Quinn

I‟m going to kill her," Francesca said to no one in particular. Which was probably a good thing, as there was no one else present.
"Who are you talking to?" Hyacinth demanded.
"God," Francesca said baldly. "And I do believe I have been given divine leave to murder you."
"Hmmph," was Hyacinth‟s response. "If it was that easy, I‟d have asked permission to eliminate half the ton years ago."
Francesca decided just then that not all of Hyacinth‟s statements required a rejoinder. In fact, few of them did. ~ Julia Quinn

She looked so unbearably sad, and it wrecked him.

"You love someone else," she whispered.
Wait.... what?

It took him a moment to realize he hasn't said it aloud. Has she gone mad? "What are you talking about?"

"Billie Bridgerton. You're supposed to marry her. I don't think you remember, bu--"

"I'm not in love with Billie," he interrupted ~ Julia Quinn

Good choice dancing with this one...I've always liked her. More brains than the rest of her family put together. ~ Lady Danbury to Colin Bridgerton ~ Julia Quinn

The two of you together are a menace," Penelope remarked.
"My aim in life," Lady Danbury announced, "is to be a
menace to as great a number of people as possible, so I
shall take that as the highest of compliments, Mrs.
Bridgerton."
"Why is it," Penelope wondered, "that you only call me
Mrs. Bridgerton when you are opining in a grand fashion?"
"Sounds better that way," Lady D said, punctuating her
remark with a loud thump of her cane. ~ Julia Quinn

Down from his brow she ran his curls like thick hyacinth clusters full of blooms ~ Homer