She could hardly remember the unhappy girl she must have been, to develop such a passion for a man who was no more than ink on paper.  -Laura Kinsale

She had never had a right to love him, never a claim to the truth from him, and yet the humiliation had turned as deep as if he had courted her like a rightful suitor.  She had done it to herself had never asked or wished to ask if he were free; had forgotten that she was not, had fallen insensibly, irrationally in love with an unthinkable dream.  -Laura Kinsale

But she knew as she spoke that she would go.  He had chosen the words that compelled her.  If she did not face him now her own contempt would haunt her all her life.  -Laura Kinsale

She had narrated her whole day to him in her mind.  It had been a way of keeping him with her, walking beside her, a real presence in her world.  -Laura Kinsale

As if he were hers, as if he were there, as if falling in love was a tangible joy, . . .as if it could be more than this heart’s toll of yearning which was all that it had ever truly been.  -Laura Kinsale

With a faint terror she recognized this feeling, this tumult.  This deep comfort, the giddy laughter welling up in her throat.  -Laura Kinsale

It was as if he wanted to strip her of every defense, as if he could not be content to leave her alone, but kept himself barriered within his own castle walls . . .or as if he were wandering some impenetrable forest she [could not enter].  -Laura Kinsale

 She wished she could touch him, soothe away half a lifetime of frustration.  -Laura Kinsale