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"To call that writing, madam, is an insult to quills and ink across the world."
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"The things you were talking about. The lights and the flowers. Do they expect those things to make them romantic, not the other way around? "Darling, what do you mean? "There wasn't a person there who enjoyed it," she said, her voice lifeless, "or who thought or felt anything at all. They moved about, and they said the same dull things they say anywhere. I suppose they thought the lights would make it brilliant."Darling, you take everything too seriously. One is not supposed to be intellectual at a ball. One is simply supposed to be gay." How? By being stupid?"
"A prose that is altogether alive demands something of the reader that the ordinary novel reader is not prepared to give."
"The best of fiction, as we know, of course, doesn't tell the truth; it tales the truth."
"There are books that speak to us of our own lives with a clarity we cannot match. They prevent the morose suspicion that we do not fully belong to the species, that we lie beyond comprehension. Our embarrassments, our sulks, our envy, our feelings of guilt, these phenomena are conveyed in Austen in a way that affords us bursts of almost magical self-recognition. The author has located words to depict a situation we thought ourselves alone in feeling, and for a few moments, we see ourselves more clearly and wish to become whom the author would have wanted us to be."
"The irrational in the human has something about it altogether repulsive and terrible, as we see in the maniac, the miser, the drunkard or the ape."
"I want the difficult stories, the ones that aren't easy to believe, the twisted ones, the sorrowful ones, the ones that need telling most of all."
"Character in decay is the theme of the great bulk of superior fiction."
"It is not all books that are as dull as their readers."
"Good novel are written by people who are not frightened."
"Stories are like children. They grow in their own way."
Explore more quotes by Julia Quinn
"This is why I didn't get married last year, she said to him. "I wouldn't be here to nurse you. She thought about that for a moment. "Of course, one could make the argument that you wouldn't be in this situation if not for me. But we're not going to dwell upon that."
"He closed his eyes. The insides of his eyelids were a brownish black, not at all the same as the thick purple of the night. Darkness had so many colors. It was strange, that, and perhaps a little disquieting. But--Oh!-A foot slammed into his left calf, and he opened his eyes just in time to see a woman tumbling backward.Right onto his blanket.He smiled. The gods still loved him."
"Just curious,she mouthed."What? I didn't catch that."Jjuussttccuurriioouuss.She drew it out this time, hoping he'd be able to read her lips."If you spoke out loud," he drawled, "I might understand what you're saying."Caroline stamped her foot in frustration, but when it landed, it landed on something considerablyless'flat than the floor."Owww!" he yelled.Oh! His foot!Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry , she mouthed.I didn't mean it."If you think I can understand that," he growled, "you're crazier than I'd originally thought."
"I thought that I needed a church and hundreds of guests and music thatactually sounded like music, but I was wrong.What I needed was a drunken priest, irreverent guests, and a companionwho learned to play piano from a goat.""Then you got exactly what you needed.""I suppose so. But then again, all I really needed was you."
"He gave her a sly, sideways look. "Did youbring it?""My list? Heavens, no. What can you be thinking?"His smile widened. "I brought mine."Daphne gasped. "You didn't!""I did. Just to torture Mother. I'm going peruse it right in front of her, pull out my quizzing glass-""You don't have a quizzing glass."He grinned-the slow, devastatingly wicked smile that all Bridgerton males seemed to possess. "I bought one just for this occasion.""Anthony, you absolutely cannot. She will kill you. And then, somehow, she'll find a way to blame me.""I'm counting on it."
"Sebastian got up and walked to the window, resting his forehead against the pane. It was cold outside, and the icy chill pressed up against him through the glass. He liked the sensation. It was big. Grand. The sort of vivid moment that reminded him of his humanity. He was cold, therefore he must be alive. He was cold, therefore he must not be invincible. He was cold, thereforeHe stood back and let out a disgusted snort. He was cold, therefore he was cold. There wasn't really much more to it."
"Caroline, do you value your neck?""Yes, I'm rather fond of it. Why?""Because if you don't shut up, I'm going to wring it."
"Anthony looked down at his evil clutches -- hands, he reminded himself, hands -- and grinned anew."
"Most people would have probably lost count around seven. This was, Harry knewfrom his extensive reading on logic and arithmetic, the largest number that most peoplecould visually appreciate. Put seven dots on a page, and most people can take a quickglance and declare, "Seven. Switch to eight, and the majority of humanity was lost."
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