You Should Be Afraid Of Me Quotes

Keep me rather in this cage, and feed me sparingly, if you dare. Anything that brings me closer to illness and the edge of death makes me more faithful. It is only when you make me suffer that I feel safe and secure. You should never have agreed to be a god for me if you were afraid to assume the duties of a god, and we know that they are not as tender as all that. You have already seen me cry. Now you must learn to relish my tears. ~ Pauline Reage

She's drawn to me just as I'm drawn to her. She can't keep away. She circles, forced to keep her distance, afraid of abandoning her husband and, even more, her son for too long. But she keeps coming, like a moth to my candle, staying longer than she should, leaving late for dinners and birthday parties, singeing her wings. She's risking her marriage for me, her family, her reputation.
And I, the moth circling her candle, realize that she's not just a candle. She's a moth as well, circling me. I look at her and see myself reflected, my feelings, my desires. And she, looking at me, must see herself. And which of us is moth and which is candle hardly seems to matter. We're both the same.
That's the secret.
What moths never tell us as they whirl in their dances.
What Manucci learned at Pak Tea House.
What sufis veil in verse.
I turn her around and look into her eyes and see the wonder in them that must be in mine as well, the wonder I first saw on our night of ecstasy, and I feel myself explode, expand, fill the universe, then collapse, implode like a detonation under water, become tiny, disappear.
I'm hardly aware of myself, of her, when I open my mouth. There is just us, and I speak for us when I speak, and I must be trembling and crying, but I don't even know if I am or what I'm doing.
I just say it.
"I love you."
And I lose myself in her eyes and we kiss and I feel myself becoming part of something new, something larger, somet ~ Mohsin Hamid

She's an Alchemist," continued Nathan. "Not a chauffeur. There's a big difference." Actually, there were days at Amberwood I doubted that. "Come, Miss Sage. If you've wasted your day driving my son here, the least I can do is buy you lunch."
I shot a panicked look at Adrian. It wasn't panicked because I was afraid of being with Moroi. I'd long since gotten used to these sorts of situations. What I was unsure of was if Adrian really wanted me around for his family reunion. That hadn't been part of the plan. Also, I wasn't sure that I really wanted to be around for said reunion either.
"Dad-" Adrian attempted.
"I insist," said Nathan crisply. "Pay attention and learn common courtesy." He turned and began walking away, assuming we'd follow. We did.
"Should I find a reason to leave?" I whispered to Adrian.
"Not when he uses his 'I insist' voice," came the muttered response. ~ Richelle Mead

And we're going out.

Kill me.

'Got everything?' Mom asks, her voice all sing-songy. We're acting normal. A short-lived facade when I open my bag and Operation Check Contents begins.

1. Phone to call for help if we have a car crash/get mugged/drive into the path of a tornado

2. Headphones to drown out the sound of people if we get caught in a crowd

3. Bottle of water for if we break down and get stranded in the middle of nowhere

4. Another bottle of water in case that other bottle leaks or evaporates

5. Tissues for nosebleeds, sneezing, crying, and/or drooling

6. Sanitizer to kill the germs you can catch from touching anything

7. Paper bag to breathe into or throw up in

8. Band-Aids and alcohol wipes in case open wounds should occur

9. Inhaler (I grew out of asthma when I was twelve, but you can't be too careful when it comes to breathing)

10. A piece of string that serves no purpose but it's been here since for ever and I'm afraid the world will implode if I don't have it

11. A pair of nail scissors for any one of a trillion reasons, most of which conclude with me being kidnapped

12. And, finally, chewing gum to take away the sour taste I always get when the panic hits

Normal takes a nosedive into my bag, sinks beneath the copious amount of clutter, and dies a slow, painful death. ~ Louise Gornall

Can you honestly tell me that your great desire is to be holy? Can you honestly tell me your great desire is to not be like the world, but to be like Jesus Christ? Because if you cannot, you should be afraid. Those who love the world do not have the love of the Father (1 John 2:15). ~ Paul Washer

I've always felt safer at night. You can be much more forgiving of yourself, not to mention the world and everyone in it, when your shortcomings aren't threatened by the brazen light of day. And by shortcomings, I mean damage. The scars are still there, but at least they're easier to hide. I never understood why they shine a fluorescent spotlight in the faces of alleged culprits in old movies to get them to tell the truth. Put me to bed and turn off the lights. I'll tell you everything. I'll be who you want me to be, I'll be honest. I'll be who I want to be, I'll be braver. Just don't ignore me. I really do want to be stronger, sweeter, less afraid all the time. Maybe it's a within-the-womb thing, but it's safer in the dark. What they should really warn you about is the light. ~ Anne Clendening

Now I want to live like everybody else. I want to have a wife like everybody else and to take her out on Sundays. I have invented a mask that makes me look like anybody. People will not even turn round in the streets. You will be the happiest of women. And we will sing, all by ourselves, till we swoon away with delight. You are crying! You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself. If you loved me I should be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do anything with me that you pleased. ~ Gaston Leroux

I've done you a disservice," he said at last. "It's only fair to let you know, but you won't have a normal life span."
I bit my lip. "Have you come to take my soul, then?"
"I told you that's not my jurisdiction. But you're not going to die soon. In fact, you won't die for a long time, far longer than I initially thought, I'm afraid. Nor will you age normally."
"Because I took your qi?"
He inclined his head. "I should have stopped you sooner."
I thought of the empty years that stretched ahead of me, years of solitude long after everyone I loved had died. Though I might have children or grandchildren. But perhaps they might comment on my strange youthfulness and shun me as unnatural. Whisper of sorcery, like those Javanese women who inserted gold needles in their faces and ate children. In the Chinese tradition, nothing was better than dying old and full of years, a treasure in the bosom of one's family. To outlive descendants and endure a long span of widowhood could hardly be construed as lucky. Tears filled my eyes, and for some reason this seemed to agitate Er Lang, for he turned away. In profile, he was even more handsome, if that was possible, though I was quite sure he was aware of it.
"It isn't necessarily a good thing, but you'll see all of the next century, and I think it will be an interesting one."
"That's what Tian Bai said," I said bitterly. "How long will I outlive him?"
"Long enough," he said. Then more gently, "You may ha ~ Yangsze Choo

How did you find me, anyway?"
"We went to your office, and your butler told us you had left to come here." She laughed, remembering it. "Max said, 'What, already?' and Mr. Shaw said, rather loftily, that you could 'wait for no man's leisure' and 'tend on no man's business.' I gather that the man is as fond of Much Ado about Nothing as we are."
"Oh, he likes them all," Dom said dryly. "Too many years spent as a bit player in the theater, I'm afraid. He keeps hoping that if he memorizes every play in existence, he will advance to a lead role." He fastened his trousers. "But how did you even get away from your uncle and Blakeborough? They just let you ride off after me with Max and Lisette?"
"Well, Blakeborough had no choice since I had just jilted him." She sighed. "Oh, Lord. I have once again jilted a fiancé, haven't I? I'm forever going to be known as the woman who jilted two men." She made a face. "I should have calling cards made--'Jane the Jilt,' to go along with 'Dom the Almighty.'"
"I will never carry a card with the appellation 'Dom the Almighty,' so just put that right out of your head," he said irritably. "In any case, since you're marrying me, I'm no longer jilted." He paused a moment to shoot her a wary glance. "You are marrying me, aren't you?"
That was even closer to asking. "Say 'please,'" she teased.
Though he eyed her askance, he pulled her close for a long, lingering kiss, then said, "Please, Jane, will you marry me?"
She bea ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Thank you for getting me," I try to say. My lips are so tired they don't want to move.
"Anytime,Zara.Really.I mean it." He seems to be smelling my hair.
"I know you hate me and everything but we should be friends," I tell him, closing my eyes.
"I don't hate you," he says. "That's not it at all."
"What is it then? Are you a victim of parthenophobia?"
"Parthenophobia?"
"Fear of girls."
"You are so strange." He moves back even closer to me, this wicked glint in his eyes like he's trying hard not to snort-laugh at me. His hand presses against the side of my head. Nobody has ever touched me like this before, all gentle and romantic, but strong at the same time. "I'm not afraid of girls."
"Then why haven't you kissed any?"
For a second his eyes flash. "Maybe the right one hasn't come around yet. ~ Carrie Jones

To turn the page to the next chapter of a more satisfying life-as-adventure, these steps that have proved fruitful for me -- when I've actually followed them.
1. Find Your True North to Become More Joyful
First be clear about choosing a goal that rings true. Forget "should" or adopting someone else's goal for you.

2. Picture Being Your Hero
Afraid you will fail? Supplant your fear with a greater motivation. When you are tempted to fall back, picture how you'll feel when you succeed. ." Rather than talking about what you are giving up or how you might fail, reflect upon and discuss the benefits you clearly see.

3. Surround Yourself With Mutual Support Systems
To keep your resolve, surround yourself with those who want you to succeed - and who are also on a path of practice. Agree on shared and individual behaviors that reinforce your mutual support. The authors of Influencer found that is the only way to permanently change.

4. Involve Your Senses To Stay On Your Path
Tie your goal for your new chapter to your frequent experiences. Write it down. Say it out loud. Associate it with things you see, hear, smell, taste and touch every day. Plant sticky messages on your bathroom mirror, your car dashboard and smart device screen. Smell your shampoo and connect it with living that chapter. Brush your teeth and feel the motion towards it.

5. Notice Where You Get Detoured
Notice your pattern of avoidance. What ac ~ Kare Anderson

Listen. I don't know how to do this right, but I really, really love you," he said, and cleared his throat. He licked his lips and started talking fast. "I think you're the sweetest, most beautiful girl in the world, and I've been living for our telephone conversations. It's the only thing that gets me through these days, knowing that I get to talk to you every night. Keeping the secret about this job was the hardest thing for me to do, but I wanted to tell you in person. And ever since I knew I was going to come here and ask you this, I couldn't eat or drink anything. And I know I'm different from you, and I'm probably never going to be cool, but I love yourpaintings, I love that you do art, I get it, and I won't ever tell you that you should do paintings that match somebody's couch. I will keep you in paint and canvases for the rest of your life, and if you really want to teach elementary school, then I think you'll be the best teacher there ever was. And I love that you dress so cute, and I love the way you smell and the way you sing in the shower. I used to camp out on the floor outside the door when you were showering just so I could hear you, and the first time we made love was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was so afraid you were going to say it couldn't happen again. I just want to spend all my time looking at you and telling you things, and even though I'm just some nerd who thinks about strikes and contracts all the time, I want you to know that I'm ~ Maddie Dawson

Mr. Langton one day asked him [Samuel Johnson] how he had acquired so accurate a knowledge of Latin, in which, I believe, he was exceeded by no man of his time; he said, 'My master whipt me very well. Without that, Sir, I should have done nothing.' He told Mr. Langton, that while Hunter was flogging his boys unmercifully, he used to say, 'And this I do to save you from the gallows.' Johnson, upon all occasions, expressed his approbation of enforcing instruction by means of the rod. 'I would rather (said he) have the rod to be the general terrour to all, to make them learn, than tell a child, if you do thus, or thus, you will be more esteemed than your brothers or sisters. The rod produces an effect which terminates in itself. A child is afraid of being whipped, and gets his task, and there's an end on't; whereas, by exciting emulation and comparisons of superiority, you lay the foundation of lasting mischief; you make brothers and sisters hate each other. ~ James Boswell

It is a long way to Ireland, Janet, and I am sorry to send my little friend on such weary travels: but if I can't do better, how is it to be helped? Are you anything akin to me, do you think, Jane?"
I could risk no sort of answer by this time: my heart was still.
"Because, he said, "I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you - especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land some broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, - you'd forget me. ~ Charlotte Bronte

This isn't about romance. A proper kiss, a proper courtship. There's a way these things should be done."
"For proper thieves?" The corners of her beautiful mouth curled and for a moment he was afraid she would laugh at him, but she simply shook her head and drew even nearer. Her body was the barest breath from his now. The need to close that scrap of distance was maddening.
"The first day you showed up at my house for this proper courtship, I would have cornered you in the pantry," she said. "But please, tell me more about Fjerdan girls."
"They speak quietly. They don't engage in flirtations with every single man they meet."
"I flirt with the women too."
"I think you'd flirt with a date palm if it would pay you any attention."
"If I flirted with a plant, you can bet it would stand up and take notice. Are you jealous?"
"All the time. ~ Leigh Bardugo

I looked at the eyes of the ghosts sitting around the fire and at Beeta, and suddenly I realized that we dead are the sorrowful part of life, while the living are the joyful side of death. And yet, Beeta was not joyful and it was the sad side of life that she didn't even know she should be joyful in life because there was nothing else she could do. I wanted to tell her this, but was afraid of bringing her damaged spirit down even further. Fortunately, she herself eventually spoke and said, "It seems that from among you, I am the more fortunate because nobody killed me. But I don't feel happy at all." She looked at we who had died. The dead who had been the first to meet her in the world of the living outside Razan. An old man in the group responded, "This is because you don't yet realize how beautiful, young, and healthy you are." Beeta smiled and her cheeks reddened by the light of the fire in silent emotion; and all of us who were dead saw how good the smile looked on her. But as she recalled dark memories, her smile faded and she said, "But the man who loved me simply turned his back on me and married a young girl." The middle-aged man said, "All the better! It means you were lovable enough but he wasn't smart enough to realize it. ~ Shokoofeh Azar

You revolutionists' the other continued, with leisurely self-confidence, 'are the slaves of the social convention, which is afraid of you; slaves of it as much as the very police that stands up in the defence of that convention. Clearly you are, since you want to revolutionize it. It governs your action, too, and thus neither your thought nor your action can ever be conclusive. (...) 'You are not a bit better than the forces arrayed against you -- than the police, for instance. The other day I came suddenly upon Chief Inspector Heat at the corner of Tottenham Court Road. He looked at me very steadily. But I did not look at him. Why should I give him more than a glance ? He was thinking of many things -- of his superiors, of his reputation, of the law courts, of his salary, of newspapers -- of a hundred things. But I was thinking of my perfect detonator only. He meant nothing to me. He was as insignificant as -- I can't call to mind anything insignificant enough to compare him with -- except Karl Yundt perhaps. Like to like. The terrorist and the policeman both come from the same basket. Revolutions, legality -- counter moves in the same game; forms of idleness at bottom identical. He plays his little game -- so do you propagandists. ~ Joseph Conrad

Why should you be a prisoner?" Rio reached again to the burning red of her hair. "' Course, you can be one if you want to be. I could wrap you in chains and promise to let you go after I've pleasured you countless times. The more you begged me to release you, the longer I'd keep you bound."
Her eyes were round, caught between panic and desire. Her breath smelled good, spicy and salty. She probably tasted just as good.
Rio leaned down and gently brushed his tongue across her lower lip.
She gasped and jerked back, and he sensed her body sending her conflicting messages. Be afraid of this man, it was telling her, at the same time it urged her, Let him do as he likes.
She wanted him, and she didn't want to want him.
"Rio," Dr. Laas' wry voice came from across the room. "The poor woman just got over alkaloid poisoning. Give her a few minutes. ~ Allyson James

She rounded on him. "You wouldn't, you giant ass." To be honest, she didn't understand, either. But that didn't stop her from putting several days' worth of fear and stress on the table. "I'm scared, okay? I'm lost. I don't know where I am, and everyone here looks at me like they want to eat me or torture me. Maybe both. I want to go home, but then I don't want to go home because everything I thought I knew is one big lie. The people I trusted have turned against me, and even my own brother is afraid to help me." She paused to take a breath, fresh fuel for her tirade. "I should hate you, but instead, I'm attracted to you, which is beyond twisted, especially since I know that after I get Neriya back, I'm probably going to die." She dashed away tears with the back of her hand. "So forgive me if I'm a little emotionally unstable right now." She sniffed. "Ass. ~ Larissa Ione

I

Not my best side, I'm afraid.
The artist didn't give me a chance to
Pose properly, and as you can see,
Poor chap, he had this obsession with
Triangles, so he left off two of my
Feet. I didn't comment at the time
(What, after all, are two feet
To a monster?) but afterwards
I was sorry for the bad publicity.
Why, I said to myself, should my conqueror
Be so ostentatiously beardless, and ride
A horse with a deformed neck and square hoofs?
Why should my victim be so
Unattractive as to be inedible,
And why should she have me literally
On a string? I don't mind dying
Ritually, since I always rise again,
But I should have liked a little more blood
To show they were taking me seriously.

II

It's hard for a girl to be sure if
She wants to be rescued. I mean, I quite
Took to the dragon. It's nice to be
Liked, if you know what I mean. He was
So nicely physical, with his claws
And lovely green skin, and that sexy tail,
And the way he looked at me,
He made me feel he was all ready to
Eat me. And any girl enjoys that.
So when this boy turned up, wearing machinery,
On a really dangerous horse, to be honest
I didn't much fancy him. I mean,
What was he like underneath the hardware?
He might have acne, blackheads or even
Bad breath for all I could tell, but the dragon--
Well, you could see all his e ~ U.A. Fanthorpe

Hazael rose from his knees. It had to take extraordinary effort, yet somehow he managed a version of his lazy smile when he said, "You know, I've always wanted to be a bath attendant. You should take me instead. I'm nicer than my sister."
Jael returned the lazy smile. "You're not my type."
"Well, you're not anybody's type," said Hazael. "No, wait. I take it back. My sword says she'd like to know you better."
"I'm afraid I must deny her the pleasure. I've been kissed by swords before, you see."
"I may have noticed. ~ Laini Taylor

Unscripted, unedited, and wholly authentic people are almost universally admired, especially if they have flaws, are not afraid to make live, red-blooded mistakes, and rather than trying are busy simply being. Which is something you should consider hiring a tattoo artist to script across the palm of your hand: Be, Don't Try. "Oh my God, I can't do that. I would totally mess up." You better pray to the corn god that you do. Messing up is how you tell other people, "It's okay to like me, because I'm just like you." Everybody feels a bit like a dented can inside. Even the slickest, most polished person you can think of is more aware of their shortcomings and flaws than their talents and gifts. ~ Augusten Burroughs

Come here, Amanda." His voice was a low scrape of sound.
"Oh, I can't," she said unsteadily. "I-I think you should go now."
Jack leaned forward and caught her wrist gently in his fingers. "I won't hurt you," he whispered. "I won't do anything that you don't like. But before I leave you this evening, I'm going to hold you in my arms."
Confusion and desire swirled inside her, making her feel unanchored, helpless. She let him pull her forward until her short limbs rested stiffly against his much longer ones. He ran a large palm down her back, and she could feel a trail of sensation in its wake. His skin was hot, as if a fire burned right beneath the smooth golden surface.
Her breath shortened, and she closed her eyes, shivering, luxuriating in the feeling of being warm all the way down to her bones. For the first time in her life, she let her head fall into the waiting crook of a man's arm, and stared up at his shadowed face.
As he felt the trembling of her limbs, he made a crooning sound and cuddled her closer. "Don't be afraid, mhuirnin. I won't hurt you."
"What did you call me?" she asked in bewilderment.
He smiled down at her. "A small endearment. Did I neglect to mention that I'm half Irish?"
That explained his accent, the neat cultured tones tempered with a sort of musical softness that must be Celtic in origin. ~ Lisa Kleypas

It should be, but you're still hesitating. Why?" "I'm afraid of losing who I am, and being only what he lets me be. ~ Lisa Renee Jones

These are all 'ghosts'. If you are afraid, the ghosts will possess you. If there is inner fear of 'what if they hang me?'; then one should say, 'yes, that is correct'. The Soul can never be hung; nothing [worldly] can touch the Soul. All the doings are that of the pudgal (matter; non-Self). The noose for hanging is pudgal and the one doing hanging (the hangman), is also pudgal. The Soul has never been hung. This [fact] does not fit one's vision and that is why he has fear. But once his vision becomes like the Gnani's [the enlightened one], then it's over! For that, one has to stay in touch with the Gnani [the enlightened one]. ~ Dada Bhagwan

I'm not afraid anymore. But I know that the terror exists. I know the kind of terror it is. You can't conceive of that kind. Listen, what's the most horrible experience you can imagine? To me - it's being left, unarmed, in a sealed cell with a drooling beast of prey or a maniac who's had some disease that's eaten his brain out. You'd have nothing then but your voice - your voice and your thought. You'd scream to that creature why it should not touch you, you'd have the most eloquent words, the unanswerable words, you'd become the vessel of the absolute truth. And you'd see living eyes watching you and you'd know that the thing can't hear you, that it can't be reached, not reached, not in any way, yet it's breathing and moving there before you with a purpose of its own. That's horror. Well, that's what's hanging over the world, prowling somewhere through mankind, that same thing, something closed, mindless, utterly wanton, but something with an aim and a cunning of its own. I don't think I'm a coward but I'm afraid of it. And that's all I know - only that it exists. I don't know its purpose. I don't know it's nature. ~ Ayn Rand

I never knew before, what such a love as you have made me feel, was; I did not believe in it; my Fancy was afraid of it, lest it should burn me up. But if you will fully love me, though there may be some fire, 'twill not be more than we can bear when moistened and bedewed with Pleasures. ~ John Keats

Peter sits with his back to the wall in the hallway. He looks up at me when I lean over him, his dark hair stuck to his forehead from the melted snow.
"Did you reset her?" he says.
"No," I say.
"Didn't think you would have the nerve."
"It's not about nerve. You know what? Whatever." I shake my head and hold up the vial of memory serum. "Are you still set on this?"
He nods.
"You could just do the work, you know," I say. "You could make better decisions, make a better life."
"Yeah, I could," he says. "But I won't. We both know that."
I do know that. I know that change is difficult, and comes slowly, and that it is the work of many days strung together in a long line until the origin of them is forgotten. He is afraid that he will not be able to put in that work, that he will squander those days, and that they will leave him worse off than he is now. And I understand that feeling--I understand being afraid of yourself.
So I have him sit on one of the couches, and I ask him what he wants me to tell him about himself, after his memories disappear like smoke. He just shakes his head. Nothing. He wants to retain nothing.
Peter takes the vial with a shaking hand and twists off the cap. The liquid trembles inside it, almost spilling over the lip. He holds it under his nose to smell it.
"How much should I drink?" he says, and I think I hear his teeth chattering.
"I don't think it makes a difference," I say.
"Okay. Well…h ~ Veronica Roth

When I was in college I started writing prose, because a very smart professor asked me what I like to read and I said, "Novels," and she said, "You should be writing them then." Memoir never even occurred to me. I think I was afraid of nonfiction and I was afraid of navel-gazing, and of being seen. ~ Melissa Febos

I cut an orange from the branch so that I could taste Palestine, but Umm Hassan yelled, "No! It's not for eating, it's Palestine." I was ashamed of myself and hung the branch on the wall of the sitting room in my house, and when you came to visit me and saw the mouldy fruit, you yelled, "What's that smell?" And I told you the story and watched you explode in anger.
"You should have eaten the oranges," you told me.
"But Umm Hassan stopped me and said they were from the homeland."
"Umm Hassan's senile," you answered. "You should have eaten the oranges, because the homeland is something we have to eat, not let it eat us. We have to eat the oranges of Palestine, and we have to eat Palestine and Galilee."
It came to me then that you were right, but the oranges were going bad. You went to the wall and pulled off the branch, and I took it from your hand and stood there confused, not knowing what to do with that bunch of decay.
"What are you going to do?" you asked.
"Bury it," I said.
"Why bury it?" you asked.
"I'm not going to throw it away, because it's from the homeland."
You took the branch and threw it in the rubbish.
"What a scandal!" you said. "What are these old women's superstitions? Before hanging the homeland up on the wall, it'd be better to knock down the wall and leave. We have to eat every orange in the world and not be afraid, because the homeland isn't oranges. The homeland is us. ~ Elias Khoury

I think I might be ready to go upstairs," she said. Suddenly it was too hard to be in his presence, too painful to know that he would belong to someone else.
His lips quirked into a boyish smile. "Are you saying I might finally crawl out from under this table?"
"Oh, goodness!" She clapped one of her hands to her cheek in a sheepish expression. "I'm so sorry. I stopped noticing where we were sitting ages ago, I'm afraid. What a ninny you must think me."
He shook his head, still smiling. "Never a ninny, Kate. Even when I thought you the most insufferable female creature on the planet, I had no doubts about your intelligence."
Kate, who had been in the process of scooting out from under the table, paused. "I just don't know if I should feel complimented or insulted by that statement."
"Probably both," he admitted, "but for friendship's sake, let's decide upon complimented."
She turned to look at him, aware that she presented an awkward picture on her hands and knees, but the moment seemed too important to delay. "Then we are friends?" she whispered.
He nodded as he stood. "Hard to believe, but I think we are."
Kate smiled as she took his helping hand and rose to her feet. "I'm glad. You're - you're really not the devil I'd originally thought you."
One of his brows lifted, and his face suddenly took on a very wicked expression.
"Well, maybe you are," she amended, thinking he probably was every bit the rake and rogue tha ~ Julia Quinn

That kiss you gave me was the hottest kiss i've ever had. I pulled away because i was afraid i wouldn't be able to stop myself from ripping off your clothes. And that didn't seem like the right way to end a first date. I didn't want you to think that was all i was interested in."
She stared at him. There was silence again, but this time she didn't worry about how long it went on.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She said finally.
"I tried to, but every time i saw you afterward you disappeared. I got the feeling you were avoiding me."
"i didn't want things to be awkward."
"Yeah, there was nothing awkward about you hiding behind a plant when i came into the dining hall at lunch on wednesday."
"I wasn't hiding. I was, um, breathing. You know, oxygen. From the plant. Very oxygenated, that air is."
"Of course. I should have thought of that."
"It's a healthy thing. Not many people know about it. ~ Michele Jaffe

I've been absent from you too long. I miss you so badly and yet this being apart makes me realise you're not simply the faithful man who loves me so astonishingly well, but an angel, sent for some unfathomable reason to look out for me. I should have realised this truth years ago because you are so extraordinary, so unlike other men, so unlike me, this weak, vain, faithless creature you have been so intent on saving from himself. I should have realised from the first moment I saw you in that trench, when I fell so badly in love with you and hoped you wouldn't notice. Or perhaps not then, but later, when you saved my life so often just by lending me courage when I was half-mad from fear. How much courage you had to spare – I will never forget. But angels are courageous, aren't they? I should know. I have never understood why I deserved such grace.

I don't have your faith, Patrick, or your love of God. I am uncertain and afraid, I wish you were with me now, not just in spirit, as I know you are and always have been, but here in body. I need to cower behind you, because if God is real He might be kinder knowing you loved me.

If angels need to pray, pray for me. ~ Marion Husband

Writer's block to me is where you stop because you're afraid to go forward because you're not sure of what really should be happening next and you think, my gosh, if I choose this ... you've got a hundred millions of avenues you could possibly go down but it's all an assess of characters. ~ Homer Hickam

Okay, Dr. Milligan," he says. "Go ahead."
"Well, my boy, I just wanted to let you know that I received the results back for the DNA tests. Emma is definitely half human."
Galen winks at me. "You don't say?"
I cover my mouth to stifle a giggle. Rudeness should never be contagious.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. That said, I'm not sure if she even has the capability of forming a fin."
Galen laughs. "We sort of already went along with that assumption, Dr. Milligan. Then the Archives confirmed it. There's a painting of people who look just like Emma in Tartessos."
Dr. Milligan sighs. "You could have called me."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Milligan. I've been...busy."
"Did Emma figure out her lineage, then?"
Galen shakes his head, though the reaction is lost on Dr. Milligan in Florida. "As far as we can tell, Emma's father was a Half-Breed. He's got the coloring, he wore contacts, he loved seafood and the ocean. He obviously knew about Emma's physical issues." He tells Dr. Milligan about his theory that some of the half-breeds survived the destruction of Tartessos.
Dr. Milligan is quiet for a few seconds. "What else?"
Galen gives me a quizzical look. I return a shrug. "What do you mean?" he says.
"I mean, my boy, what other evidence do you have to go on? The man you just described could be me. I used to have blond hair before the gray took over. I wear contacts. I happen to love seafood and the beach, if where I live is any indication. I also ~ Anna Banks

And don't call me 'my lord.' That's what servants do. You're my fiancée, remember?" He sounded irritated. "I'll call you Maria, and you should probably call me by my Christian name-Oliver."
An unusual name for an English lord. "Where you named after the playwright, Oliver Goldsmith?"
"Alas, no. I was named after the Puritan, Oliver Cromwell."
"You're joking."
"Afraid not. My father thought it amusing, considering his own…er…tendency toward debauchery."
Lord help her, the man's very name was a jab at respectability. Meanwhile, his estate could probably hold the entire town of Dartmouth!
A sudden panic seized her. How could she pretend to be the fiancée of a man who owned a house like that?
"I was named after King Frederick," Freddy put in.
"Which one?" asked Lord Stoneville. Oliver.
"There's more than one?" Freddy asked.
"There's at least ten," the marquess said dryly.
Freddy knit his brow. "I'm not sure which one."
When humor glinted in Oliver's eyes, Maria said, "I think Aunt Rose was aiming for a generally royal-sounding name."
"That's it," Freddy put in. "Just a King Frederick in general."
"I see," Oliver said solemnly, though his lips had a decided twitch. His gaze flicked to her. "What about you? Which Maria are you named after?"
"The Virgin Mary, of course," Freddy said.
"Of course," Oliver said, eyes gleaming. "I should have known."
"We're Catholic," Freddy added.
"My mother was C ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Josh? Can you come to my room?"

My wolfish grin broke some of the tension on her face.

"Oh, stop. There's a spider. I need you to kill it. Please. Before it disappears and I have to burn my whole house down."

I laughed. "Should I get my gun or…?"

She bounced nervously. "Josh, I'm serious. I hate them. Please help me."

I pulled a few tissues from the box on my nightstand. "You know, you seem too fearless to be afraid of spiders."

"A black widow killed my schnauzer when I was a kid. Embracing a lifelong debilitating fear of spiders is cheaper than therapy." She stopped in the doorway of her room like there was an invisible force field, and I almost bumped into her back. ~ Abby Jimenez

If you are disabled, it is probably not your fault, but it is no good blaming the world or expecting it to take pity on you. One has to have a positive attitude and must make the best of the situation that one finds oneself in; if one is physically disabled, one cannot afford to be psychologically disabled as well. In my opinion, one should concentrate on activities in which one's physical disability will not present a serious handicap. I am afraid that Olympic Games for the disabled do not appeal to me, but it is easy for me to say that because I never liked athletics anyway. On the other hand, science is a very good area for disabled people because it goes on mainly in the mind. Of course, most kinds of experimental work are probably ruled out for most such people, but theoretical work is almost ideal. My disabilities have not been a significant handicap in my field, which is theoretical physics. Indeed, they have helped me in a way by shielding me from lecturing and administrative work that I would otherwise have been involved in. I have managed, however, only because of the large amount of help I have received from my wife, children, colleagues and students. I find that people in general are very ready to help, but you should encourage them to feel that their efforts to aid you are worthwhile by doing as well as you possibly can. ~ Stephen Hawking

We've known his family forever. He doesn't seem to care about the scandal in ours, and he's an excellent shot-"
"That would certainly be at the top of my list of requirements for a husband," Minerva broke in, eyes twinkling. "'Must be able to hit a bull's-eye at fifty paces.'"
"Fifty paces? Are you mad? It would have to be a hundred at least."
Her sister burst into laughter. "Forgive me for not knowing what constitutes sufficient marksmanship for your prospective mate." Her gaze grew calculating. "I heart that Jackson is a very good shot. Gabe said he beat everyone today, even you."
"Don't remind me," Celia grumbled.
"Gabe also said he won a kiss from you."
"Yes, and he gave me a peck on the forehead," Celia said, still annoyed by that. "As if I were some…some little girl."
"Perhaps he was just trying to be polite."
Celia sighed. "Probably.
I didn't kiss you "properly" today because I was afraid if I did I might not stop.
"The thing is…" Celia bit her lower lip and wondered just how much she should reveal to her sister. But she had to discuss this with someone, and she knew she could trust Minerva. Her sister had never betrayed a confidence. "That wasn't the first time Jackson kissed me. Nor the last."
Minerva nearly choked on her chocolate. "Good Lord, Celia, don't say such things when I'm drinking something hot!" Carefully she set her cup on the bedside table. "He kissed you?" She seized Celia's free hand. "More than o ~ Sabrina Jeffries

The man was impossible. To her every retort,he had a counter. "A beak you may want to avoid for I will use it."
His dimples turned into craters. "Aye, my lady,that you most certainly are not afraid of using. I think I actually see the small scars along your wrists and hands from where you missed your intended target and clipped yourself."
Edythe opened her mouth,ready to send out another assualt, when the sparkle in his hazel eyes captured her attention. Tyr was not making fun of her. Rather,he was truly enjoying their conversation, and if she was being honest, so was she. Inclining her head in agreement, she curled her lips mischievously and said, "Inflictions all finches must learn to endure."
"Indeed they must," Tyr replied with a bow. "You,Lady Finch,are a genuine surprise. These past few days,your elder sister has been gracious, kind, and all things a lady should be when welcoming a guest, but it seems that only my friend Ranulf can turn her into a fiery tempest. And each time she does, it pulls him farther in.I see now why he is susceptible to such treatment."
Edythe briefly closed her eyes and gave a quick shake to her head. "You enjoy being insulted?"
"You have not insulted me, you couldn't. You don't know me well enough.Nor I you. We just merely sparred and I am finding that I like wit in a woman, a most uncommon trait where I have been. If I were not so decided in my ways,you,dear Finch, would be in trouble."
"Well,then I thank the Lord ~ Michele Sinclair

You want us to fear you," she growls at me, speaking now in accented Kenettran. "You think that you can come here and destroy our homes, kill our loved ones - then make us grovel at your feet. You think we will sell you our souls for a few coins." She lifts her chin. "But I am not afraid of you."
"Is that so?" I tilt my head at her curiously. "You should be."
She challenges me with a smile. "You can't even bring yourself to spill our blood." She nods in the direction of Sergio, who has already started to draw his sword. "You have one of your lackeys do it for you. You're a coward queen, hiding behind your army. But you cannot crush our spirits beneath your Roses' heels - you cannot win. ~ Marie Lu

A pale, slightly luminescent form materialized in front of us. Mason. He looked the same as ever-or did he? The usual sadness was there, but I could see something else, something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. Panic? Frustration? I could have almost sworn it was fear, but honestly, what would a ghost have to be afraid of.
"What's wrong?" asked Dimitri.
"Do you see him?" I whispered.
Dimitri followed my gaze. "See who?"
"Mason."
Mason's troubled expression grew darker. I might not have been able to adequately identify it, but I knew it wasn't anything good. The nauseous feeling within me intensified, but somehow, I knew it had nothing to do with him.
"Rose...we should go back..." said Dimitri carefully. He still wasn't on board with me seeing ghosts.
But I didn't move. Mason's face was saying something else to me-or trying to. There was something here, something important that I needed to know. But he couldn't communicate it.
"What?" I asked. "What is it?"
A look of frustration crossed his face. He pointed off behind me, the dropped his hand.
"Tell me," I said, my frustration mirroring his. Dimitri was looking back and forth between me and Mason, though mason was probably only and empty space to him.
I was too fixated on Mason to worry what Dimitri might think. There was something here. Something big. Mason opened his mouth, wanting to speak as in previous times but still unable to get the words out. Ex ~ Richelle Mead

If it was that easy, your father would have told you himself. This-like any real truth-must be discovered on your own. Honestly, I have no idea what your father might have told you. I do know he felt you were too optimistic, too naïve, and Royce is … well … not. At our last meeting, I spoke to him of Royce. It was Danbury's idea-his last wish-that if I ever found his wayward son, I should introduce the two of you. I think he felt Royce could provide you with that last piece of the puzzle, the one thing he failed to give you. Consider it one last chicken test if you will, one whose lesson you might not see the virtue of just yet." The professor stroked his beard around the edges of his mouth. "I suspect you have regrets at how you left home. Guilt perhaps. This is your chance to ease that feeling. This is the door your father left open for you. Besides, you don't need to marry Royce-just accept this single assignment."

"What assignment?" Hadrian asked.

"I need for you to fetch me a book. It's a journal written by a former professor here at the university."

"He means he wants us to steal a book." Royce had picked up what looked to be a six-inch incisor from a bear and was rolling it between his hands.

"More like borrow without permission," Arcadius expl-ained.

"Can't you just ask, especially since you only want to borrow it?" Hadrian said.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. First, it would be heretical to ~ Michael J. Sullivan

I've seen thousands of mortal girls," he said softly, "more
than you could ever count, from all corners of your world. To me, they're all the same.They see only this outer shell, not who I really
am, beneath. You have. You've seen me without the glamour and the illusions, even the ones I
show my family, the farce I maintain just to survive. You've seen who I really am, and yet,
you're still here. You're here,
and the only dance I want is this one."

"For better or worse, I'm afraid you're stuck with me now."

"I plan to keep you, from everyone, for as long as
I'm alive. That includes Puck, the false king, and anyone else who would take you
away. I guess I should've warned you that I have a slight possessive
streak."

"My name is Ashallyn'darkmyr Tallyn, third son of the Unseelie Court. Let it be known - from this day forth, I vow to protect Meghan Chase,
daughter of the Summer King, with my sword, my honor, and my life. Her desires are
mine. Her wishes are mine. Should even the world stand against her, my blade will be at
her side. And should it fail to protect her, let my own existence be forfeit. This I swear,
on my honor, my True Name, and my life. From this day on…I am yours."

"My life…everything I am…belongs to you."

"I will always be your knight, Meghan Chase. And I swear, if there is a way for us to be together, I will find it. No matter how long it takes. If ~ Julie Kagawa

Let me get this straight," Nina said. "You haven't kissed me because the setting isn't suitably romantic?"
"This isn't about romance . A proper kiss, a proper courtship. There's a way these things should be done."
"For proper thieves?" The corners of her beautiful mouth curled and for a moment he was afraid she would laugh at him, but she simply shook her head and drew even nearer. Her body was the barest breath from his now. The need to close that scrap of distance was maddening.
"The first day you showed up at my house for this proper courtship, I would have cornered you in the pantry," she said. ~ Leigh Bardugo

I wonder where they'll go," Jake continued, frowning a little. "There's wolves out there, and all sorts of beasts."
"No self-respecting wolf would dare to confront that duenna of hers, not with that umbrella she wields," Ian snapped, but he felt a little uneasy.
"Oho!" said Jake with a hearty laugh. "So that's what she was? I thought they'd come to court you together. Personally, I'd be afraid to close my eyes with that gray-haired hag in bed next to me."
Ian was not listening. Idly he unfolded the note, knowing that Elizabeth Cameron probably wasn't foolish enough to have written it in her own girlish, illegible scrawl. His first thought as he scanned the neat, scratchy script was that she'd gotten someone else to write it for her…but then he recognized the words, which were strangely familiar, because he'd spoken them himself:

Your suggestion has merit. I'm leaving for Scotland on the first of next month and cannot delay the trip again. Would prefer the meeting take place there, in any case. A map is enclosed for direction to the cottage. Cordially-Ian.

"God help that silly bastard if he ever crosses my path!" Ian said savagely.
"Who d'you mean?"
"Peters!"
"Peters?" Jake said, gaping. "Your secretary? The one you sacked for mixin' up all your letters?"
"I should have strangled him! This is the note I meant for Dickinson Verley. He sent it to Cameron instead."
In furious disgust Ian raked his hand through his hair ~ Judith McNaught

Keeping a new church outwardly focused from the beginning is much easier than trying to refocus an inwardly concerned church.

In order to plant a successful church, you have to know that you know that you are undeniably called by God.

The call to start a new church plant is not the same as the call to serve in an existing church or work in a ministry-related organization. You may be the greatest preacher this side of Billy Graham but still not be called to start a church.

If you think you may have allowed an improper reason, voice or emotion to lead you to the idea of starting a new church, back away now. Spend some more time with God. You don't want to move forward on a hunch or because you feel "pretty sure" that you should be planting a church. You have to be completely certain.

"You're afraid? So what. Everybody's afraid. Fear is the common ground of humanity. The question you must wrestle to the ground is, 'Will I allow my fear to bind me to mediocrity?'"

When you think of a people group that you might be called to reach, does your heart break for them? If so, you may want to consider whether God is specifically calling you to reach that group for His kingdom.

Is your calling clear? Has your calling been confirmed by others? Are you humbled by the call? Have you acted on your call?

Do you know for certain that God has called you to start a new church? Nail it down. When exactly were you called? ~ Nelson Searcy

I told you. There's nothing heroic here, nothing for the writer's pen. I had thoughts like, It's not wartime, why should I have to risk myself while someone else is sleeping with my wife? Why me again, and not him? To be honest, I didn't see any heroes there. I saw nutcases, who didn't care about their own lives, and I had enough craziness myself, but it wasn't necessary. I also have medals and awards - but that's because I wasn't afraid of dying. I didn't care! It was even something of an out. They'd have buried me with honors. And the government would have paid for it. ~ Svetlana Alexievich

What's the matter, Freckles?" he said, pressing a light kiss to the tip of my nose.
"What changed?" I blurted out.
He drew back. "Changed?"
"You seemed like you were trying to keep distance between us before, but after last night…"
"I should get a medal for managing to keep my hands off you that long."
"It was only a few days," I reminded him dryly.
"Felt like a lifetime."
"So those first kisses… you liked them?"
His eyes widened. "You thought that I didn't?"
"Well, after that you didn't touch me."
"Shit," he swore beneath his breath and ran a hand over his head. "I liked it too much. The sparks between us are so hot, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop. I was afraid I would scare you off. Thank God I did because you're so innocent."
Innocent? Ugh.
I folded my arms across my chest. "So what changed your mind?"
His smile was sexy and filled with innuendo. "I realized you could handle the heat."
I still wasn't so sure, but I didn't tell him that. "Well, you are definitely hot."
He grinned. He had such a big ego. "How hot?"
I shook my head. "So hot your touch leaves torch marks on my skin."
He whistled between his teeth. "Damn. I'm good. ~ Cambria Hebert

Seems safe enough," Cal said, and Aislinn shrugged.
"Well, there you go," she said.
Without so much as a "Hey, try not to get killed," she turned back for the stone hut. I wouldn't let my eyes follow Aislinn. If I looked back, I was afraid I'd go running after her.
Instead I walked out to stand next to Cal. Underfoot, the surface gave slightly. Gingerly, we made our way down the watery road. "Brannicks and magic and hell, oh my," I joked, and Cal gave a snort of what might have been laughter.
I hit a particularly slipper spot and wobbled for a second before Cal grabbed my elbow. I didn't want it to be awkward, and I really didn't want my entire face to go red, but that's exactly what happened. I glanced up. Our eyes met, and Cal jerked his hand back so fast that he overbalanced. As he started to fall, I went to grab him, and the next thing I knew, we both went down. I hit the wall of water to my right, just as Cal slid to the left. I fell into the water, completely immersed, only to have it spit me back out onto the path.
I sat there, arms and legs akimbo, hair dripping water into my eyes. Cal sat opposite me, every bit as drenched, looking totally bewildered. Once again, we locked eyes.
And this time, we both burst out laughing.
"Oh God," I spluttered. "Your face!"
"My face?" he said, his laughter dwindling to a chuckle. "You should see your hair."
He rose to his feet, leaning down to offer me a hand. I took it gratefully. Once I ~ Rachel Hawkins

She took his finger and placed a small kiss on the end of it. "You're just full of surprises, Taggart." She saw him give her a very pleased male smile.
"Stick around, Darlin', there's more to me than meets your eyes."
"Should I be afraid? ~ Lindsay McKenna

My darling Julie, I know you'll never see this letter, but it helps to write to you every day. It keeps you close to me. G-d, I miss you so. You haunt every hour of my life. I wish I'd never met you. No-I don't mean that! What good would my life be without my memories of you to make me smile.

I keep wondering if you're happy. I want you to be. I want you to have a glorious life. That's why I couldn't say the things I knew you wanted to hear when we were together. I was afraid if I did, you'd wait for me for years. I knew you wanted me to say I loved you. Not saying that to you was the only unselfish thing I did in Colorado, and I now I regret even that.

I love you, Julie. Christ, I love you so much. I'd give up all my life to have one year with you. Six months. Three. Anything.

You stole my heart in just a few days, darling, but you gave me your heart, too. I know you did- I could see it in your eyes every time you looked at me.

I don't regret the loss of my freedom any more or rage at the injustice of the years I spent in prison. Now, my only regret is that I can't have you. You're young, and I know you'll forget about me quickly and go on with your own life. That's exactly what you should do. It's what you must do. I want you to do that, Julie.

That's such a lousy lie. What I really want is to see you again, to hold you in my arms, to make love to you over and over again until I've filled you so completely that ther ~ Judith McNaught

Are you afraid of me?
Uh ... yes.'
The smile stayed fixed in place. 'You should be. You locked me in a refrigerator truck with three dead people. Sooner or later I'm going to get you for it. ~ Janet Evanovich

We kiss for a long time, a good long time. I don't even notice that it's cold and I forget to be afraid because that's just how good a kisser he is. His lips move above my lips. My lips ache for the touch of him, the softness of his skin. We keep kissing. My hands wrap themselves in his hair. His hand presses me close into him, as close as I can be against him, and he is solid, strong, amazing. My hands leave his hair and journey down to the sides of his face, still tingling.
"We should keep going," he says, voice gruff and husky again. I love when his voice sounds like that, deeper than normal. His lips puff out a little more, too. "You're blushing."
I pull my lips in against each other like I'm still trying to taste him. I move my snowshoes off of his snowshoes. It's tricky.
"You're a good kisser," I say.
"So are you. ~ Carrie Jones

You must not be too severe upon yourself," replied Elizabeth.
Say nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it." You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough. ~ Jane Austen

I heard - " I began.
"I let you hear," he cut me off.
I shut my mouth, closed the door, and leaned back against it. The corners of his lips turned up as if at some private amusement, and for a moment I thought we were having one of those silent conversations.
You think it's safe to close yourself in with the Beast?
If you think I'm afraid of you, you're wrong.
You should be afraid.
Maybe you should be afraid of me. Go ahead, piss me off, Barrons. See what happens.
Little girl thinks she's all grown up now.
His mouth moved into a smile that I've grown familiar with over the past few months, shaped of competing tensions: part mockery, part pissed off, and part turned on. Men are so complicated. ~ Karen Marie Moning

I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you - especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, - you'd forget me." "That I never should, sir: you know - " Impossible to proceed. ~ Charlotte Bronte

Zane walked over to the bookshelf and picked up a tin container with pencils in it. He rattled the pencils around in a circle, then reached into the tin to pull out a piece of chalk. Then he drew a circle on the wood floor around the chair Mary sat in.
"What are you doing?"
"At the end of my dream, I was very old. And I shed my skin. And I became something frightening that wasn't like me at all. If I come back, and I've turned into a monster, then you'll be safe from me in there."
"Oh, I don't like this." She felt a little punchy, a little giggly. "And then you're going off to the bathroom to pee? You're going to have to hold it." She held onto his hand. It was like her dad's hand, maybe even a bit older. The skin was soft, and thinner than her father's.
"No, really, I have to go." He pulled his hand.
She didn't let go. She giggled. "I'm not going to let you go. Not after you just said that to me."
Her giggling was a bit infectious. And he got the bug. He laughed. "But I have to go."
"Well, you shouldn't have said that first. 'I might turn into a horrible monster of which you should be so afraid that you'll remain in a chalk . . .'" She giggle-snorted. "'Chalk ring.' How's that going to help me?" She giggled again. "I'm having too much fun, Zane; I'm not going to let this turn into some horrible nightmare, because then I'm going to make myself wake up and I might never see you again."
They stared and stared at each other, the grins fro ~ James T. Riley

My dear child,' said the old gentleman, moved by the warmth of Oliver's sudden appeal, 'you need not be afraid of my deserting you, unless you give me cause.'
I never, never will, sir,' interposed Oliver.
I hope not,' rejoined the old gentleman; 'I do not think you ever will. I have been deceived before, in the objects whom I have endeavoured to benefit; but I feel strongly disposed to trust you, nevertheless, and more strongly interested in your behalf than I can well account for, even to myself. The persons on whom I have bestowed my dearest love lie deep in their graves; but, although the happiness and delight of my life lie buried there too, I have not made a coffin of my heart, and sealed it up for ever on my best affections. Deep affliction has only made them stronger; it ought, I think, for it should refine our nature. ~ Charles Dickens

He said nothing. Juliana peeped at him again. "You're very anxious to get her in your power again,
Vidal. But I don't quite know why you should be, for you meant to marry her only because you had
ruined her, and so were obliged to, didn't you?"
She thought that he was not going to answer, but suddenly he raised his eyes from the contemplation
of the dregs of his wine. "Because I am obliged to?" he said. "I mean to marry Mary Challoner
because I'm devilish sure I can't live without her."
Juliana clapped her hands with a crow of delight. "Oh, it is famous!" she exclaimed. "I never dreamed
you had fallen in love with my staid Mary! I thought you were chasing her through France just
because you so hate to be crossed! But when you flew into a rage with me for saying she was too dull
to be afraid of you, of course, I guessed at once! My dearest Dominic, I was never more glad of
anything in my life, and it is of all things the most romantic possible! Do, do let us overtake them at
once! Only conceive of their astonishment when they see us! ~ Georgette Heyer