There Is No Peace In Poverty

It Was Finally Becoming Clear To Her That Love Wasn't About Finding Someone Perfect To Marry. Love Was About Seeing Through To The Truth Of A Person, And Accepting All Their Shades Of Light And Dark. Love Was An Ability.

These Impossible Women! How They Do Get Around Us!

On Monday They Went Out For A Private Picnic. On Tuesday They Went For A Carriage Drive. On Wednesday They Went To Pick Bluebells. On Thursday They Fished At The Lake, Returning With Damp Clothes And Sun-glazed Complexions, Laughing Together At A Joke They Didn't Share With Anyone Else. On Friday They Danced Together At An Impromptu Musical Evening, Looking So Well Matched One Of The Guests Remarked It Was A Pleasure To Watch Them. On Saturday Matthew Woke Up Wanting To Murder Someone.

I Think The Busiest People Are Often The Loneliest.

Over The Years I’ve Collected A Thousand Memories Of You, Every Glimpse, Every Word You’ve Ever Said To Me. All Those Visits To Your Family’s Home, Those Dinners And Holidays—i Could Hardly Wait To Walk Through The Front Door And See You.” The Corners Of His Mouth Quirked With Reminiscent Amusement. “you, In The Middle Of That Brash, Bull-headed Lot…i Love Watching You Deal With Your Family. You’ve Always Been Everything I Thought A Woman Should Be. And I Have Wanted You Every Second Of My Life Since We First Met.