Courtney Milan Quotes
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If it must be done, it's best done bravely.
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“But we’re not trying to empty the Thames,” she told him. “Look at what we’re doing with the water we remove. It doesn’t go to waste. We’re using it to water our gardens, sprout by sprout. We’re growing bluebells and clovers where once there was a desert. All you see is the river, but I care about the roses.
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I think we may have started this conversation off on the wrong foot," Robert said finally. In fact, if the conversation had been animate, the merciful thing to do would have been to take it out behind the barn and shoot it.
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Oh, thank God. It wasn’t the penis talk.
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She made her shoulder blades into steel, willing them to stay rigid against his onslaught. She was a thing of gears and metal, strong like clockwork, and she wouldn’t melt down into tears.
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She had taken London by storm - which was to say, as with any good storm, some people stayed indoors when they saw her coming.
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I fear that one day I will no longer understand desperation, and with that, I will slowly stop listening to what others have to say.
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A lady always avoids the truth, when it happens to be gauche.
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He wanted to laugh. He ought to have corrected the man. “Yes,” he finally said. “I do things with stuff. How ever did you know?” “Maybe this is for the best,” Fairfield said. “You might know of a whole range of cures that I have not been able to access.
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His uncle had provided Adrian with some incredibly valuable lessons in how English society functioned. One of those lessons was that being married to the wrong person was worse than being dead.
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But the Duke of Clermont was smiling and cheerful, and he’d thrown it out there as if it were merely one more fact to be recounted. The weather is lovely. The streets are paved with cobblestone. Your tits are magnificent.
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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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This feeling, this tentative flutter in her belly - this was hers. This was sunlight on her face. It was the warmth she'd dreamed of. It was a curl of honest attraction, the first she'd experienced in years.
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The beautiful thing about marriage is the right it gives me to monogamy. One man intent on dictating my whereabouts is enough, wouldn’t you think?
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"I would call him an ordinary man, but, well." Another grin. "Even I am not capable of such delusional self-effacement."
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This is why people are so hard to understand. I cannot even estimate their gravitational pull.
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One could push a pack of truths together to make one despicable falsehood.
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I’ll tell you my truth, if you’ll tell me yours.
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Then the car door opens and the driver gets out. He’s tall and thin with sandy-blond hair.
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We're friends...And what that means is this: I won't let anyone hurt you. Not if I can stop it.
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You can call me your friend if you like, but I think of you when I stroke myself. When last I checked, that points to feelings that are decidedly more than friendly.
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A man must claim responsibility for his own temptation, and not pin it on the woman who arouses him. It’s a gown, Sir Mark. Not even one of my more daring ones.
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Is it a thorny question of ethics? Or is it the sort of ethical question where the right choice is easy, but the unethical answer is too tempting?
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I spent my day as I normally spend my days: threatening suppliers, bullying those who are not in line with my expectations, and generally creating havoc in the lives of others. The square across the street is empty of all but the pigeons. I find myself resenting them.