Livia Marsden Quotes

It is better to spend time in one's own company than to consort with people who have no more intelligence than the sheep and goats they herd."
Annoyed by his snobbery, Livia could not resist making a retort. "You are fortunate, then, Mr. Chamberlain. With that attitude, it seems likely that you will indeed be spending a great deal of time in your own company. ~ Lisa Kleypas

She looked away from him, her expression suddenly contemplative, the edges of her teeth catching at the plush curve of her lower lip. Just as Gideon thought she was going to refuse him, she reached out impulsively, her warm fingers catching at his. He held her hand as if he cradled a fragile bird in his palm, and drew her close enough that he could smell the hint of rose water in her hair. Her body was slim, sweetly curved, her uncorseted waist soft beneath his fingers. Despite the undeniable romance of the moment, Gideon felt a most unromantic stirring of lust as his body reacted with typical mare awareness to the nearness of a desirable female. He eased his partner into a slow waltz, guiding her expertly across the uneven flagstones.
"I've seen fairies dancing on the lawn before," he said, "when I get deep enough in a bottle of brandy. But I've never actually danced with one before. ~ Lisa Kleypas

And there was Livia, standing in a little puddle of water. She smiled at him, though her hazel-green eyes were wary beneath the brim of a sodden hat. Right at that moment, staring at her across the entrance hall, Gideon Shaw, cynic, hedonist, drunkard, libertine, fell hopelessly in love. He had never been so completely in the thrall of another human being. So enchanted, and foolishly hopeful. A thousand endearments crowded his mind, and he realized ruefully that he was every bit the mooncalf that he had accused McKenna of being the previous day.
"Livia," he said softly, approaching her. His gaze raked over her flushed, rain-spattered face, while he thought that she looked like a bedraggled angel. ~ Lisa Kleypas

What about you, Mr. Shaw?" she asked. "Are your affections engaged by someone back home?"
He shook his head at once. "I'm afraid that I share McKenna's rather skeptical view of the benefits of marriage."
"I think you will fall in love someday."
"Doubtful. I'm afraid that particular emotion is unknown to me..." Suddenly his voice faded into silence. He set his cup down as he stared off into the distance with sudden alertness.
"Mr. Shaw?" As Aline followed his gaze, she realized what he had seen- Livia, wearing a pastel flower-printed walking dress as she headed to one of the forest trails leading away from the manor. A straw bonnet adorned with a sprig of fresh daisies swung from her fingers as she held it by the ribbons.
Gideon Shaw stood so quickly that his chair threatened to topple backward. "Pardon," he said to Aline, tossing his napkin to the table. "The figment of my imagination has reappeared- and I'm going to catch her."
"Of course," Aline said, struggling not to laugh. "Good luck, Mr. Shaw."
"Thanks." He was gone in a flash, descending one side of the U-shaped stone staircase with the ease of a cat. Once he reached the terraced gardens, he cut across the lawn with long, ground-eating strides, just short of breaking into a run.
Standing to better her view of his progress, Aline couldn't suppress a mocking grin. "Why, Mr. Shaw... I thought there was nothing in life you wanted badly enough to chase after it. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Beginning to feel that her brother was being rather too harsh on Lillian Bowman, Livia frowned. "She's a very pretty girl, Marcus."
"A pretty facade isn't enough to make up for the flaws in her character."
"Which are?"
Marcus made a faint scoffing sound, as if Miss Bowman's faults were too obvious to require enumeration. "She's manipulative."
"So are you, dear," Livia murmured.
He ignored that. "She's domineering."
"As are you."
"She's arrogant."
"Also you," Livia said brightly.
Marcus glowered at her. "I thought we were discussing Miss Bowman's faults, not mine."
"But you seem to have so much in common," Livia protested, rather too innocently. ~ Lisa Kleypas

It all began when ... they're funny, those words. Everyone uses them, without thinking what they mean. When does anything begin? With everyone it begins when you're born. Or before that, when your parents got married. Or before that, when your parents were born. Or when your ancestors colonised the place. Or when humans came squishing out of the mud and slime, dropped off their flippers and fins, and started to walk. But all the same, all that aside, for what's happened to us there was quite a definite beginning ~ John Marsden

Is it true, what I once heard your sister say, that you don't like to be embraced?"

She took some time to think. "Sometimes Livia needs to hold someone, and I'm the only suitable person nearby. When I was little, I used to wriggle out of her arms and escape to a corner of our room. But it wasn't so much that I couldn't stand being held as that I didn't want to be held indefinitely. Later I taught myself to count to three hundred to mark five minutes―which helped me to realize that she needed only about half that time. I can take two to three minutes of being held. But Livia remains hesitant to this day―she's still scarred by my bolting away from her embrace."

He would be, too.

In fact, sometimes he felt scarred by her, even though she had never done anything except be an excellent friend. ~ Sherry Thomas

The glow of a lamp filled the main bedroom with quiet amber light. The unmistakable rattle of ice in a glass floated to her ears. Assuming that Shaw was in a drunken stupor, Livia went to the doorway.
The sight that greeted her eyes caused her to gasp.
Gideon Shaw was reclining in a slipper tub that had been set near the fire, his head leaning back against the mahogany rim, one long leg dangling carelessly over the side. He held an ice-filled glass in his hand, his gaze arrowing to hers as he took a swallow. Steam rose in veils from the bathwater, condensing on the golden curvature of his shoulders. Droplets glistened on the amber curls of his chest and the small circles of his nipples.
Good Lord in heaven, Livia thought dazedly. Gentlemen suffering the aftereffects of an excess of strong spirits usually looked terrible. "Death's head on a mop stick" was how Marcus liked to describe them. However, Livia had never seen anything as magnificent as an unshaven and unkempt Gideon Shaw in his bath. ~ Lisa Kleypas

You see, mzungus make these programmes because in their countries they know that everything will work correctly. And when they come to Uganda they still make their programmes but they forget that things don't work here like they do when they are at home. And then when something goes wrong, like there's no petrol, or the road has been flooded, or the battery doesn't work, they can't do all the things in their programme. Sometimes, even when they are at home, the programme doesn't work. At these times, when the programme goes bad, it makes them very unhappy. Very unhappy. ~ Luke F.D. Marsden

We were lovers,' he says dramatically. 'I was very convincing.' Livia giggles and reaches up to stroke his hair. Hank pretends not to notice Livia's hand as it crawls across his cheek, and it turns into a game. Her fingers pet his lips as he mumbles through them, 'What part do you want? ~ Rachel M. Wilson

A reaction, to be pleasant, must be simple. ~ Marsden Hartley

One and two and three and four and five and six…"
Oh, God don't let me hurt him.
"…and seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven…"
Am I really doing this? Here? Is this real?
"…and twelve and thirteen and fourteen and fifteen…"
We're in the middle of nowhere. No one is going to find us. Even the fire has gone out.
"…and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen…"
He's dead. I'm just beating on his body.
"…and twenty and twenty-one and twenty-two and twenty-three and twenty-four…"
My arms hurt. How can my arms hurt now? Blake. I can't. I can't be here without you.
"…and twenty-five and twenty-six and twenty-seven and twenty-eight and twenty-nine and thirty."
The next step was simple: cover his mouth and fill his lungs with air. Breathe into him with life's breath. Livia did so, licked her lips, and started compressions again.
"And one and two and three and four and five and six and seven…"
I've got to be positive. I have to know he'll make it.
"…and eight and nine and ten and eleven and twelve and thirteen and fourteen…"
We're going to grow old together, Blake. We're going to hold hands and kiss.
"…and fifteen and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen…"
I'm giving you all my energy. All this love and hope. It's going from my heart to yours, through my hands.
"…and twenty and twenty-one and twenty-two and twenty-three…"
Feel it, Blake. Feel it.
"…and twenty-four ~ Debra Anastasia

If you added up all the really significant episodes in your life they'd probably come to less than sixty minutes. ~ John Marsden

Livia, I can't get started if we can't finish. I can't trust myself to stop."
Livia smiled at his concern and grabbed her jacket, digging in the pocket. "Kyle had one, and I grabbed it." Livia held the condom up victoriously.
"Only one? I better make it count." Blake still had the mask on, so he left it to his fingers to adore her. "I'm going to paint my passion on your skin. ~ Debra Anastasia

Livia dug around in the bottom of her closet while Blake put the figurine back where it belonged. He handled her belongings like he was the curator in a world-renowned museum. ~ Debra Anastasia

And I realized more and more that the Armenian story was not so much one of massacre and persecution, as survival. ~ Philip Marsden

Beckett, would you do me a favor? For my wedding?" Livia asked suddenly.
He nodded. "You know I'll do whatever you ask."
She looked over her shoulder and back to his face. "In a minute I'm going to faint away from lack of food. When I wake up, I would appreciate it if you were miles away on Eve's bike."
"You're going to crack your fucking head trying to pull a stunt like that." He ran his hand through his hair. "And I gave your dad my word. I don't want him to think that was all a ploy."
"You said anything. Come on, big guy, give me what I want." She looked at him hopefully. "I'll explain it all to my dad later. I promise."
Beckett leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Fine. You take good care of my brother. Tell them both I said goodbye. I can't do it. I'm a pussy. ~ Debra Anastasia

Livia wasn't sure how to comfort Blake. She certainly didn't have a big pile of clean money to take the place of Beckett's. "Beckett is all sorts of bad because of what he does, but who he is - that's very beautiful. Sweetheart, he really stood by me while I waited for you to come out of surgery." She rose and held out her arm. ~ Debra Anastasia

How dare you? How dare you, of all people, not have faith in him?" Livia shot back. "All that negativity? You believe it. That's what he is to you? A burden?" Livia's mouth stayed open with the shock of his words and her bravery. ~ Debra Anastasia

Look at me. Please." It was more than a whisper but less than a shout. She got quieter. "Blake, please."
His green eyes found hers. She spoke as if they were alone.
"I made a mistake," Livia began. "I know you overheard me talking to my dad. I needed him to understand who you are, but I had to talk on his level. As a father he needed to know I was being decisive. I don't think you heard the last part when I told him you were the path I wanted to take."
A flicker. Was it hope? Livia smiled.
Blake's lips moved, and she knew he'd counted her smile.
"I'll make mistakes. I know I will," she continued. "I want to be perfect for you. But I'm human. I can only be me. That probably isn't enough for a soul as beautiful as yours. But if I hurt you by accident, can't we stay and hold hands until we fix it? Can't we fix it?" Livia now spoke louder than she wanted to, but she had to be heard over the cacophony.
Blake bit his lip. "You're perfect."
"No, sweetheart. I can't even pretend to be perfect. Look where we are right now. That's my fault, Blake."
Here. I need to tell him now. "Blake, I love you," Livia confessed quietly.
The tears in her eyes had nothing to do with smoke this time.Livia leaned toward Blake and tried again, louder still.
"Blake, I love you."
Livia shouted in the silence because now her soul was free. "I love you, Blake!"
She smiled as he mouthed the words back to her. ~ Debra Anastasia

But somehow, standing in the clear night air, under a sky that glowed like a shower of sparks, none of that stuff mattered. It slipped off me. It was like shedding your clothes before you step in the shower. I felt I was down to essentials again. In fact I felt very close to God at that moment. I guess if you're ever going to feel close to God it'll be while you're looking at the heavens. ~ John Marsden

The virtue of Yankee upbringing spiritually speaking is of more downright value to me than any past heritages. ~ Marsden Hartley

There was a difference between quality and mere showiness, he thought. That notion was reinforced immediately by the appearance of Lady Aline.
She was dazzling, with strands of white pearls in her lustrous dark hair, her voluptuous body wrapped in a blue dress that molded tightly over the swell of her breasts. A double circlet of fresh white rosebuds was wrapped around one of her gloved wrists. Extending her hands in welcome, she went to a group of guests near the door of the ballroom. Her smile was a flash of magic. As he watched her, McKenna noticed something about her that had not registered during their earlier meeting... she walked differently than he remembered. Instead of exhibiting the impetuous grace she had possessed as a girl, Aline now moved with the leisurely deliberateness of a swan gliding across a still pond.
Aline's entrance attracted many gazes, and it was obvious that McKenna was not the only man who appreciated her sparkling allure. No matter how tranquil her facade, there was no concealing the luminous sensuality beneath. ~ Lisa Kleypas

You are wrong to assume that I insist upon perfection in a woman. I enjoy physical beauty like any other man, but it's hardly a requirement. That would be hypocritical, coming from a man who is far from handsome himself."
Aline paused in surprise, regarding his broad, even features, his strong jaw, the shrewd black eyes set beneath the straight lines of his brows. "You are attractive," she said earnestly. "Perhaps not in the way that someone like Mr. Shaw is... but few men are."
Her brother shrugged. "Believe me, it doesn't matter, since I've never found my looks- or lack thereof- to be an impediment in any way. Which has given me a very balanced perspective on the subject of physical beauty- a perspective that someone with your looks rarely attains."
Aline frowned, wondering if she was being criticized.
"It must be extraordinarily difficult," Marcus continued, "for a woman as beautiful as you to feel that there is a part of you that is shameful and must be concealed. You've never made peace with it, have you?"
Leaning her head back against the settee, Aline shook her head. "I hate these scars. I'll never stop wishing that I didn't have them. And there's nothing I can do to change them."
"Just as McKenna can never change his origins."
"If you're trying to draw a parallel, Marcus, it won't do any good. McKenna's origins have never mattered to me. There is nothing that would make me stop loving him-" She stopped abruptly as she understood the ~ Lisa Kleypas

But the things that were right about him I sort have been able to do for myself for a while now. His constant reminders used to feel like love, but now they feel like he wanted to take control of my life so I couldn't. It hasn't been right for me and I've been ignoring that. And now I think I was waiting for you. I know I was waiting for you," Livia said as she trapped his hand against her cheek. ~ Debra Anastasia

-I'll play you a song.
Blake flexed his fingers and concentrated harder on the cardboard, moving his hands methodically over it's surface.
What do you say after an imaginary concert?
Livia watched as the song came to a close with his careful plucking a certain keys on the cardboard. She couldn't help but glance to see if the commuters were staring.
-I couldn't hear that, but your hands looked beautiful.
-Of course not. It's not plugged in.
Blake smiled, then watched as she didn't get his joke. ~ Debra Anastasia

Hey, maybe you could invite the new guy to your party." Sarah suggested.

Mark rolled his eyes. "Sure, I'll just ask the good-looking stranger if he wants to come round to my Nanna'a and dance naked around a fire." Mark was suddenly aware of the engulfing silence.

"Who'll be naked doing what now? ~ K.S. Marsden

If you're lucky enough to pick what you do, that's the greatest career you can have. Ultimately, that's my goal: to have choices. ~ James Marsden

This is what nibbling your ear sounds like." Blake created a soundtrack for his teeth.
"This is what looking into your eyes sounds like." The notes were deep and beckoning.
"This is what my mind hears when my tongue is in your mouth." The kiss sounded steamy and delicate. The rhythm was her heartbeat as he sampled her mouth.
"But when you smile. When you smile it's ... "
Blake scooted the keyboard around behind her. He needed both hands.
She put her hands on his face and smiled in amazement as the music exploded. She couldn't imagine how her simple facial gesture could inspire such a majestic sound.
He smiled back. "One thousand nine hundred and ten."
"So many? Really?"
"Yes, really. And it's not nearly enough. I want to lose count, Livia. Make me lose count." His hands left the beautiful music and grabbed handfuls of her hair. ~ Debra Anastasia

The sense of form in New Mexico is for me one of the profoundest, most original, and most beautiful I have personally experienced. It must be 'learned.' . . . It is not a country of light on things. It is a country of things in light. ~ Marsden Hartley

This is the most complicated relationship since Romeo and Juliet," she complained. "You're
both hopeless. I mean, what is the big problem? You love him. He adores you. You get together and live happily ever after. Any
questions? No, of course not. That'll be ten dollars, thank you. ~ John Marsden

Levering himself over Evie's prone body, Sebastian risked a glance upward at the second-floor balcony. Bullard was gone. With a grunt of pain, Sebastian rolled to his side and searched his wife for injuries, terrified that the bullet might have struck her as well. "Evie…sweetheart…are you hurt?"
"Why did you push me like that?" she asked in a muffled voice. "No, I'm not hurt. What was that noise?"
His shaking hand brushed over her face, pushing back a tumble of hair that had fallen across her eyes.
Bemused, Evie wriggled out from beneath him and sat up.
Sebastian remained on his side, panting for breath, while he felt a hot slide of blood over his chest and waist.
People were crowding to flee the building, threatening to trample the couple on the floor. Suddenly a man came to crouch over them, having fought his way through the rushing horde.
He used his body as a bulwark to keep them from being overrun. Blinking, Sebastian realized that it was Westcliff. Dizzily Sebastian reached up to clutch at his coat. "He aimed for Evie," Sebastian said hoarsely. His lips had gone numb, and he licked at them before continuing. "Keep her safe…keep her… ~ Lisa Kleypas

Why are you being such a baby over this? I'm the one who was kept cloistered. (Livia)
Because my mother and sister are sacred beings, unsullied by the hands of a man, and if you tell me differently, especially where Zarina is concerned, I swear to God, I'm donning my assassin's uniform and gutting whatever bastard touched her. (Adron) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

But as he spent more time with Livia and talked to her about what she was learning, he came to feel confident that she saw him only as her soulmate and never as a potential patient. She wanted to help him and just happened to have an above-average knowledge of how to do so. ~ Debra Anastasia

You can never stay angry too long in the bush though. At least, that's what I think. It's not that it's soothing or restful, because it's not. What it does for me is get inside my body, inside my blood, and take me over. I don't know that I can describe it any better than that. It takes me over and I become part of it and it becomes part of me and I'm not very important, or at least no more important than a tree or a rock or a spider abseiling down a long thread of cobweb. As I wandered around, on that hot afternoon, I didn't notice anything too amazing or beautiful or mindbogglingly spectacular. I can't actually remember noticing anything out of the ordinary: just the grey-green rocks and the olive-green leaves and the reddish soil with its teeming ants. The tattered ribbons of paperbark, the crackly dry cicada shell, the smooth furrow left in the dust by a passing snake. That's all there ever is really, most of the time. No rainforest with tropical butterflies, no palm trees or Californian redwoods, no leopards or iguanas or panda bears.

Just the bush. ~ John Marsden

What happened?" Lillian asked as Daisy walked into the Marsden parlor. She was reclining on the settee with a periodical. "You look as if you've been run over by a carriage."
"I had an encounter with an ill-mannered pig, actually. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I make people uncomfortable. The kind ones get angry because their kindness doesn't work. The unkind ones get angry because they think I'm attacking them. ~ John Marsden

Damn it. I mean, darn it. I thought the church was on fire. I'm so sorry. How do you clean up holy water? Is it like communion? Do you have to lick it off the floor? Can I help you? ~ Debra Anastasia

Lady Merritt Sterling was a vibrantly attractive woman with large, dark eyes, a wealth of lustrous sable hair, and a flawless porcelain complexion. Unlike her two sisters, she had inherited the shorter, stockier frame of the Marsden side instead of the slender build of her mother. Similarly, she had her father's square-shaped face and determined jaw instead of her mother's delicate oval one. However, Merritt possessed a charm so compelling that she eclipsed every other woman in the vicinity, no matter how beautiful.
Merritt focused on whomever she was talking to with a wealth of sincere interest, as if she or he were the only person in the world. She asked questions and listened without ever seeming to wait for her turn to talk. She was the guest everyone invited when they needed to blend a group of disparate personalities, just as a roux would bind soap or sauce into velvety smoothness.
It was no exaggeration to say that every man who met Merritt fell at least a little in love with her. When she had entered society, countless suitors had pursued her before she'd finally consented to marry Joshua Sterling, an American-born shipping magnate who had taken up residence in London. ~ Lisa Kleypas

You'll need a chaperone. I have no doubt that Great-Aunt Clara would stay at the terrace with you, or perhaps - "

"I'll invite old Mrs. Smedley from the village," Livia said. "She's from a respectable family, and she would enjoy a trip to London."

Aline frowned. "Dearest, Mrs. Smedley is hard of hearing, and as blind as a bat. A less effective chaperone I couldn't imagine."

"Precisely," Livia said, with such satisfaction that Aline couldn't help laughing. ~ Lisa Kleypas

His mind was completely occupied with the image of Aline by the river, the rich mass of her pinned-up hair, the exquisite lines of her body and throat.
Time had only made Aline's beauty more eloquent. Her body was ripe and fully developed, the form of a woman in her prime. With maturity, her face had become more delicately sculpted, the nose thinner, the lips faded from deep rose to the pale shade of pink that tinted the inside of a seashell. And there was that damned, never-forgotten beauty mark, the festive dark fleck that lured his attention to the tender corner of her mouth. ~ Lisa Kleypas