I want you to take note, Commander, that turning in my badge would be like cutting off my arm. But if it comes down to a choice between the job and my marriage, then I lose the arm.
Don’t ‘honey’ me in that southern-fried twang.
You have to trust or you’re only living half a life.
Then I saw it, and it just grabbed me. That moment, that breath just before destiny, between innocence and power. He’ll pull the sword free. You know it. And in that moment, the world changes. Camelot’s born, Arthur’s fate is sealed. He’ll unite a people, be betrayed by a woman and a friend, and sire the man who’ll kill him. In this moment, he’s a boy. In the next he’ll be a king.
You put something behind you, it’s got its eyes on your back. I’d rather keep it in front of me, so I can see where it’s going.
She’s the light. Before, you can fumble around in the dark or manage in the dim. You don’t even know it’s dim because that’s the way it’s always been. But then, she’s the light. Everything changes. If the light shuts off, or worse, you’re stupid enough to shut it off yourself, it’s a hell of a lot darker than before.
People say to someone they love: I’d die for you. They don’t expect to, of course, have no plans to. They may believe it, or mean it, or it may simply be an expression of devotion. But I know what it means now, I understand that impossible depth of emotion now. And I know you would die for me. You’d put my life before yours to protect me. And that terrifies me.
There could be pockets of normal even in the middle of the awful.
Mothers do, every day. It’s funny, Bo, how a woman can bring two children into the world, raise them up the same way – the same rules and values, indulgences and disciplines. And still two separate people come out of it all.
To crave forever is to dismiss the beauty and wonder of the cycle.
You have a sixty-seven GTO convertible, in factory red.” He stood in reverent silence for ten full seconds. “I think you have to marry me now. You’re the first woman besides Loo who’s seen her and known what she is. I’m pretty sure we’re engaged.
Love shouldn’t be hard.” “There I think you’re wrong. I think it should be the hardest thing there is, then it’s not so easily given away, or taken away, or just lost.
If you don’t tell her just that, if you don’t give her your heart, Aidan, if you don’t bare it for her and give her the time to trust what she sees there, you’ll never have her.
You can’t know everything. Sometimes you have to trust. Sometimes you have to just feel.
Love’s not some amorphous concept created for books and poetry and not attainable. It’s real and vital, and it’s necessary. Damn it.
You can never read too many books, any kind.
The man who loses the boy is a sad and serious man.
Where there is a great deal of light, the shadows are deeper.
Romance made every woman beautiful, and every man a prince. A woman with romance in her life lived as grandly as a queen, because her heart was treasured.
Love faded, or flipped over into loathing. Or settled somewhere in between into a kind of grinding detachment. It could snap like a dry twig, with one careless step.