Pack of gossips, we are.” “We are not,” Georgie said emphatically. “We are people who love and care about each other and are therefore logically interested in comings and goings. It is not at all the same as a pack of gossips.” “Sorry,” Violet said with a wince. “There really ought to be a more benign word for people who love and care about each other and are therefore logically interested in the comings and goings.” “Family?” Georgie suggested.
Did it matter what a man wrote if no one ever read it? Did words have meaning if they were never heard?
You will always be a Bridgerton, and we behave with honor and honesty, not because it is expected of us, but because that is what we are.
The viscount was running in front of her, and all she could think was that he must really want to marry Edwina, because despite the fact that he was clearly a splendid athlete, he looked most undignified dashing through the park after a rotund corgi.
It was that spark. That damnable spark that never seemed to dim between them. That awful prickle of awareness that burned every time she entered a room, or took a breath, or pointed a toe. That sinking feeling that he could, if he let himself, love her.
It was ironic, Amelia had thought more than once during the journey to Cloverhill that she had recently become so enamored of cartography. Because she was only just now coming to realize how thoroughly her own life had been mapped out by others. Even with all her plans torn asunder, her new map, with whatever routes her life was meant to take, was being drawn by others.
Demostrar que algo no era correcto no significaba que lo opuesto lo fuera.
Get yourself a dress and get yourself some flowers, because, sweetheart, you’re getting yourself a new name.
Anthony could actually feel the tips of his ears turning red with barely leashed rage. “You, madam, are a menace to society.” She opened her mouth as if to return the insult, but instead she just offered him an almost frighteningly devious smile and turned to the dog and said, “Shake, Newton.
I need you. To-night. Right now. I need you.
There were always whispers. And whispers, if left unchecked, could quickly grow into roars.
His memory of her never quite lived up to the enchanting reality of her face.
He was comfortable with her. He could make the sort of stupid comments that were only a little bit funny and made no sense. The kind one made when one didn’t have to weigh every word and worry about judgment or scorn.
It is simply a matter of making sure they realize that you are comfortable with them. Once they realize that, they will be comfortable with you.
No, I’m not going to forget it, I’ve spent my life forgetting things, not saying them, never telling anyone what I really want.
We are no better than animals if we cannot learn from our mistakes and move forward.
It isn’t gossip,” Hyacinth retorted. “It’s the honest dissemination of information.
Men are always more interested in a woman if they think other men are interested.” – Simon Basset.
That seemed to cover a lot of life, he’d come to realize. Proving something right wasn’t the same as proving the opposite wrong.
And so kissing her became a matter of self-preservation. It was simple. If he did not kiss her now, if he did not consume her, he would die. It sounded melodramatic, but at the moment he would have sworn it to be true. The hand of desire twisting around his gut would burst into flame and take him along with it.