I know. I was there. I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine. ― Sebastian Faulks, Birdsong. (Vintage; Reprint edition June 2, 1997) Originally published 1993.
For too long, I’ve been telling myself that I could spend all this time with you and flirt with you and not have it mean anything. It does mean something. You mean something to me. — Claudia Gray, Stargazer. (HarperTeen; 1 edition March 24, 2009)
Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the… Continue reading L. M. Montgomery
I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment. ― Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing. (Delacorte Books for Young Readers December 26, 2007)
There’s no conscious thing on the face of the world that doesn’t know dread more intimately than its own heartbeat. ― Clive Barker, Books of Blood: Volume Two. (Berkley Books September 1986)
A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn’t mean in winter. ― Patricia Briggs, Dragon Blood. (Ace; Reissue edition December 31, 2002)
It had flaws, but what does that matter when it comes to matters of the heart? We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That’s as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love… Continue reading Patrick Rothfuss