The end and object of conquest is to avoid doing the same thing as the conquered.
I vow to spend the rest of my life keeping your hands and feet warm.
When a man writes a romance, the woman dies. When a woman writes one, it ends all tidy and sweet.
I‟m going to kill her,” Francesca said to no one in particular. Which was probably a good thing, as there was no one else present. “Who are you talking to?” Hyacinth demanded. “God,” Francesca said baldly. “And I do believe I have been given divine leave to murder you. ” “Hmmph,” was Hyacinth‟s response. “If it was that easy, I‟d have asked permission to eliminate half the ton years ago. ” Francesca decided just then that not all of Hyacinth‟s statements required a rejoinder. In fact, few of them did.
Rehearsels, actually. " "Rehearsals?" "For the-" Oh,no. "-musicale. " The Smythe-Smith musical. It finished off what the Crusades had begun. There wasn't a man alive who could maintain a romantic thought when faced with the memory-or the threat-of a Smythe-Smith musicale.
But she was already in. Gareth couldn't help but stand back in admiration. Hyacinth Bridgerton was clearly a natural born athlete. Either that or a cat burglar.
Daphne," he said with controlled gentleness, "what is wrong?" She sat down opposite him and placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm so insensitive," she whispered. "I should have known. I should never have said anything. " "Should have known what?" he ground out. Her hand fell away. "That you can't—that you couldn't—" "Can't what?" She looked down at her lap, where her hands were attempting to wring each other to shreds. "Please don't make me say it," she said. 'This," Simon muttered, "has got to be why men avoid marriage.
Without the grace of Jesus: a hopeless end. With the grace of Jesus: an endless hope.
Winter is the time for study, you know, and the colder it is the more studious we are.
Many people try to avoid pressure, yet the absence of any tension or pressure usually creates a sense of boredom and the lackluster experience of life that so many people complain about.
coincident with the explosive growth of research, the art of writing science suffered a grave setback, and the stultifying convention descended that the best scientific prose should sound like a non-human author addressing a mechanical reader. . . . We injure ourselves when we fail to make our discipline as clear and vibrant as we can to students - prospective scientists - and to the public who pay the taxes.