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God gave one sisters to teach one to love the inexplicable.
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It would be like loving the ocean, but wishing it would change into a glass of water.
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You really shouldn’t blame men for everything.” “No, just the ninety-eight percent of society’s ills they’re responsible for.
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I’m sure your prick is as massive as your head is thick.
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If eyes were windows to the soul, hers had been bricked up to avoid taxation.
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“Jessica," he said gravely. "I will be your champion, if you let me. If I have to take on the role of knight, I want to be yours. Let me be your protector.
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He held her for a minute, then two, then three, simply holding her and committing to memory what he could not have in life.
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In this world, you’re either playing the game or you’re a pawn on the board.
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An unreadable response was heaps better than an unprintable one.
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Men touch their horses to calm them,” she said distantly. “They caress their falcons to remind them that they are bound. Touch smacks of ownership, and I am weary of being a possession.
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But to call it looking was like calling an eighteen-course feast a snack.
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Burn that one to the ground, Violet, and dance on the ashes. And damn anyone who tells you it’s selfish to do so.
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I knew the instant Margaret spoke that she intended to use me as a weapon. What you fail to understand is this: I am her weapon to use.
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“Oh, dear.” Free looked down, fluttering her eyelashes demurely. “Is my punctuation showing once more?
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"I’ve escaped from the dreadful clutches of a nap,” she announced to the road.
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Sometimes I wish that this quest had not come to me. Justice is an impossible beast to track. The trail is lonely, and she offers no reward when she's caught but the promise of another hunt.
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This wasn’t a case of gilding the lily. If there was a lily underneath all that, it had long since been crushed to a pulp. The party stopped in its tracks as she took off her cloak, frozen in wordless contemplation of a wardrobe that made the word “gaudy” sound sweet and demure by contrast.
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“Violet,” he said. “How could I say I loved you and expect you to do something you didn’t want?
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He wanted her to lift her head at this moment. He wanted her to look him in the eyes and realize that he loved her. He wanted her to love him back.
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Some servent with no sense of the symbolic had kept the hinges well-oiled during the years of his absence, as if their marital life had merely been cast into temporary abeyance.
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I only said I would stop talking to you, he'd written. I never promised to stop loving you.
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A sign on the door proclaimed: "The countess is NOT to be bothered except in the cases of death, disembowelment, the Apocalypse, or the arrival of her mother.
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It had been so long since anyone had made her feel fluttery. It felt like winter sunshine – something to be savored because it surely wouldn’t last.
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"Family isn’t a matter of history. Or biology,” he said softly. “It’s a matter of choice.”