Quotes by Julie Anne Long

He was still thoughtful. Do you think any of us ever really knows anyone? Philosophy, Lord Dryden? And yet its daylight and everyone is still sober.

He would ask nothing else from life if he would be allowed to protect and cherish her for the rest of his.

What happens next? she whispered.Connor turned to her and smiled faintly. Always a question, that was Rebecca.Theres more? he said in mock wondermentRebecca dimpled.You know very well there is more.Tell me all about it, he encouraged.In Papas book—Tell me all about it without mentioning your papa.

I love you so much i can hardly tell my own heart from yours anymore, and Ive never said it to another woman in my life as its never until now been true.

I dont know, he said irritably. Is it meant to improve you?She swiveled toward him, eyes wide with shock.Because nothing could, he added. Her mouth dropped in astonishment. Blotchy scarlet rushed her complexion. One would have thought hed shot her.Oh dear God!He realized belatedly how wrong it had sounded.No! God... that is to say.. nothing is necessary to improve you. Nothing could possibly make you better... than you already are.

He leaned in for a sniff. Smells like a horses arse! Ive got Ian! -No sniffing allowed! We never discussed sniffing! I cry foul! Ian was outraged. Im not giving you a shilling! -Give him a shilling! Its not his fault you smell like a horses arse!

Something was stirring in him, though; a bud of comprehension that could very well bloom into forgiveness if left unchecked.

Of course youre sorry. The first words out of the mouths of men who are caught doing something theyre only too happy to continue until theyre caught.

It isnt a weakness to accept kindness. It isnt a weakness to allow yourself to be cared for.

Magnanimous of you.His mouth twitched. Mmm. Use more words like that, please. Schoolmistress words. Long, impressive ones. Hed made the last three words sound like an innuendo.

He was close enough now to see that her profile was designed to do dramatic things to hearts: stop them, steal them, break them.

But she bravely kept her eyes open; she was both lost and found in the soft, burning depths of his eyes.

But now he understood why someone would write things like she walked in beauty like the night and so forth. Because poetry was a barrier against raw emotions. It distilled them into bearable music, allowed one to accommodate them a little at a time.

The question remains... who takes care of you, Miss Vale? I might ask the same question of you, Lord Dryden.

Rebecca stared back at him, still dazed. Shed forgotten how to speak; it seemed an unimportant skill, anyhow, when such kisses were to be had, when a whole world could be made from a kiss.

Their faces were inches apart now, and he traced her lips with one finger, lightly, lightly, then placed his lips there as if he’d drawn them into being.

Jules could have sworn there was a devilish glint in the shopkeepers eye. I find today I am in need of a bonnet.Mr. Postlethwaite was silent. And then his eyes crept toward the marquesss hairline.It will be a gift for a woman, Mr. Postlethwaite.Of course, sir. The marquess wished the of course sounded a bit more sincere. Hed scarcely been in the shop for more than three minutes and already his dignity was fraying.

I love you, she murmured. The words ... it was as though an entire sun had exploded in his chest.Hed been ridiculous. His thrashing thoughts, his grand confusion and torment and helplessness -- it was only love, had always been love, he supposed. It was no precipice he stood at, or rather precipices have little meaning when one finally acknowledges that one has wings. Connor stepped off.I love you, too.Such grave, inadequate words for what it was he felt.

Only two things kept her from loathing him.The expression on his face when hed said, France. And the expression on his face when hed said, home.

He wished for access to all the worlds languages at once, for then he would have a better word for how he felt and what she was.