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Image of the quote is loading... SaveSave We are a motley bunch. But we more than make up for it with tenacity.

We are a motley bunch. But we more than make up for it with tenacity.” ~ Ralston to Simon

Sarah MacLean
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I am happy to pay you," she announced. "For your services."A harsh, strangled sound cut through the room. It came from him. "Pay me."She nodded. "Would say, twenty-five pounds do?""No."Her brows knit together. "Of course, a person of your--prowess--is worth more. I apologize for the offense. Fifty? I'm afraid I can't go much higher. It's quite a bit of money.
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Men are not nearly as evolved as women are, nor as intelligent, evidently
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Let me be clear. Last I was aware you were neither my husband nor my father nor my King. Therefore, any control you may imagine you hold over me is just that- imaginary
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But there, in that remarkable room, surrounded by a laughing, rollicking, unseeing collection of London's brightest and wickedest, Pippa's knowledge of anatomy expanded.It seemed there was such a thing as a broken heart.
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I believe she is Selene, goddess of the moon.""She looks so content.""You sound surprised.""Well," Callie said tentatively, "Selene is not the happiest of stories. After all, she is doomed to love a mortal in eternal sleep."St. John turned at her words, obviously impressed. "Her own fault. She should have known better than to ask favors of Zeus. That particular course of action never ends well.""A truth of which Selene was likely acutely aware upon receiving her favor. I assume that this statue depicts a happy Selene before Zeus meddled.""You forget," St. John said, a teasing gleam in his eye, "she and Endymion did have twenty children despite his somnolence, so she couldn't have been so very unhappy with her situation.""With due respect, my lord," Callie said, "bearing and raising twenty children alone does not sound like the happiest of circumstances. I hardly think she would appear so very rested were this a statue depicting her maternal bliss.
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Why books?”Her brows rose. “I beg your pardon?”“Why are they your vice?”She set her plate down and wiped her hand on her skirts before reaching for the top volume on a stack of small, leather bound books nearby and extending it to him. “Go on.”He took it. “Now what?”“Smell it.” He tilted his head. She couldn’t help but smile. “Do it.”He lifted it to his nose. Inhaled.“Not like that,” she said. “Really give it a smell.”He raised one brow but did as he was told. “What do you smell?” Sophie asked.“Leather and ink?”She shook her head. “Happiness. That’s what books smells like. Happiness. That’s why I always wanted to have a book shop. What better life than to trade in happiness?
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why couldn't someone , somewhere , want her for her ?
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I love your laugh. I want to hear it every day. I want to be through all this darkness and devastation. I want happiness now. I want our due. I want what we’ve deserved from the beginning.” He paused and stared deep into her eyes, willing her to understand how much he loved her. “I want you.
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