Her smile hollowed out his chest. She’d changed since last he saw her. She was brighter. More vibrant. Happiness suited her.

She had a good, strong voice. She smiled with her voice, too. This, he thought, was the magic that had drawn him to her.

Her gaze collided with the duke’s. His eyes were a clear, pale green. Why was he staring so intently when there was hardly another woman less interesting than she?

You are walking to Hope Springs?” “Yes, Your Grace.” “In this weather?” She glanced around and gave him a smile. “I haven’t any other weather to walk in.

She laughed, and the duke might actually have smiled, though one could never be certain.

He remounted. “I will ride with you.” With some effort, he gentled his voice. “If that would be agreeable to you.” “How kind of you. Thank you.

She laughed, and the sound pierced his heart.

Nona I don't think your allowed to smoke in here.Nona exhaled a large cloud of smoke.Nona keeps their lights on. A little smoke won't hurt them.

He stood taller, and straighter, and broader, and infinitely more human than anything else Marcii could possibly imagine.

Where two principles really do meet which cannot be reconciled with one another, then each man declares the other a fool and a heretic

The wide corridor up the centre of E Block was floored with linoleum the colour of tired old limes, and so what was the Last Mile at other prisons was called the Green Mile at Cold Mountain.

"Man is born unto the trouble as the sparks fly upwards." In other words suffering is germane to our existence; indeed, how without it, should we be able to "fly upwards".

You can't be happy that fire cooks your food and be mad it burns your fingertips.

Once upon a time, I did not live in Shady Pines. Once upon a time, my name was not Alice. Once upon a time, I didn't know how lucky I was.

You have to begin to put the infrastructure in place to put in high-speed trains...It should be a national priority. If the French can do it, why cant we?

Can anything harm us, mother, after the night-lights are lit?" Nothing, precious," she said; "they are the eyes a mother leaves behind her to guard her children.

I've been going through photos of my mother, looking back on her life and trying to put it into context. Very few people age gracefully enough to be photographed through their aging.