Bowman Sisters Quotes

“Smiling wistfully at the thought of her beloved sister, Daisy felt a wave of loneliness sweep over her. She and Lillian had always been together, arguing, laughing, getting each other into scrapes, and rescuing each other whenever possible. Naturally she was happy that Lillian had met her perfect match in the strong-willed Westcliff... but that didn't stop Daisy from missing her terribly. And now that the other wallflowers, including Evie, had found husbands, they were part of the mysterious married world that Daisy was still excluded from. She was going to have to find a husband soon. Some nice, sincere gentleman who would share her love of books. A man who wore spectacles, and liked dogs and children.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Winter

“There are some who believe that perfume is magic. The fragrance of a thing is its purest essence. And certain scents can awaken phantoms of past love, of sweetest reminiscence."
"Phantoms?" Daisy repeated, intrigued, and the other girl replied impatiently.
"He doesn't mean it literally, dear. Perfume can't summon a ghost. And it's not really magic. It's only a mixture of scent particles that travel to the olfactory receptors in your nose.”
― Lisa Kleypas, It Happened One Autumn

“I shall leave you to your Sisyphean task."
"What does that mean?" he heard Daisy ask.
Lillian replied while her smiling gaze remained locked with Marcus's. "It seems you avoided one too many Greek mythology lessons, dear. Sisyphus was a soul in Hades who was damned to perform an eternal task... rolling a huge boulder up a hill, only to have it roll down again just before he reached the top."
"Then if the countess is Sisyphus," Daisy concluded, "I suppose we're..."
"The boulder," Lady Westcliff said succinctly, causing both girls to laugh.
"Do continue with our instruction, my lady," Lillian said, giving her full attention to the elderly woman as Marcus left the room. "We'll try not to flatten you on the way down.”
― Lisa Kleypas, It Happened One Autumn

“I wonder why it is that so many light-haired women smell of amber..."
"You mean amber perfume?" Daisy asked.
"No-their skin itself. Amber, and sometimes honey..."
"What on earth do you mean? the younger girl asked with a bemused laugh. "People don't smell like anything, except when they need to wash."
The pair regarded each other with what appeared to be mutual surprise. "Yes, they do," Lillian said. "Everyone has a smell... don't say you've never noticed? The way some people's skin is like bitter almond, or violet, while others..."
"Others have a scent like plum, or palm sap, or fish hay," Nettle commented.
Lillian glanced at him with a satisfied smile. "Yes, exactly!"
Nettle removed his spectacles and polished them with care, while his mind swarmed with questions. Was it possible that this girl could actually detect a person's intrinsic scent? He himself could- but it was a rare gift, and not one that he had ever known a woman to have.”
― Lisa Kleypas, It Happened One Autumn

“Despite the sisters' pretend rivalry and occasional squabbles, they were each other's staunchest ally and closest friend. Few people in Lillian's life had ever loved her except Daisy, who adored the ugliest stray dogs, the most annoying children, and things that needed to be repaired or thrown out altogether.
And yet for all their closeness, they were quite different. Daisy was an idealist, a dreamer, a mercurial creature who alternated between childlike whimsy and shrewd intelligence. Lillian knew herself to be a sharp-tongued girl with a fortress of defenses between herself and the rest of the world- a girl with well-maintained cynicism and a biting sense of humor.”
― Lisa Kleypas, It Happened One Autumn

“While the indecisive customer hovered over an array of perfumes that Nettle had brought out for her, the American girls browsed among the shelves of perfumes, colognes, pomades, waxes, creams, soaps, and other items intended for beauty care. There were bath oils in stoppered crystal bottles, , and tins of herbal unguents, and tiny boxes of violet pastilles to freshen the breath. Lower shelves held treasure troves of scented candles and inks, sachets filled with clove-saturated smelling salts, potpourri bowls, and jars of pastes and balms. Nettle noticed, however, that while the younger girl, Daisy, viewed the assortment with only mild interest, the older one, Lillian, had stopped before a row of oils and extracts that contained pure scent. Rose, frangipani, jasmine, bergamot, and so forth. Lifting the amber glass bottles, she opened them carefully and inhaled with visible appreciation.
Eventually the blond woman made her choice, purchased a flacon of perfume, and left the shop, a small bell ringing cheerfully as the door closed.
Lillian, who had turned to glance at the departing woman, murmured thoughtfully, "I wonder why it is that so many light-haired women smell of amber..."
"You mean amber perfume?" Daisy asked.
"No- their skin itself. Amber, and sometimes honey..."
"What on earth do you mean?" the younger girl asked with a bemused laugh. "People don't smell like anything, except when they need to wash."
The pair regarded each other with what appeared to be mutual surprise. "Yes, they do," Lillian said. "Everyone has a smell... don't say you've never noticed? The way some people's skin is like bitter almond, or violet, while others..."
"Others have a scent like plum, or palm sap, or fresh hay," Nettle commented.
Lillian glanced at him with a satisfied smile. "Yes, exactly!"
Nettle removed his spectacles and polished them with care, while his mind swarmed with questions. Could it be? Was it possible that this girl could actually detect a person's intrinsic scent? He himself could- but it was a rare gift, and not one that he had ever known a woman to have.”
― Lisa Kleypas, It Happened One Autumn

“A pity that she gets so upset about little things, isn't it?"
"Like the time we sneaked the greased piglet into Mrs. Astor's parlor."
Smiling reminiscently, Lillian knelt before the door and worked the pin into the lock. "You know, I've always wondered why Mother didn't appreciate that we did it in her defense. Something had to be done after Mrs. Astor wouldn't invite Mother to her party."
"I think Mother's point was that putting livestock in someone's house does little to recommend us as future party guests."
"Well, I didn't think that was nearly as bad as the time we set off the Roman candle in the store on Fifth Avenue."
"We were obligated to do that, after that salesman had been so rude.”
― Lisa Kleypas, It Happened One Autumn

“Honesty is overrated. As someone once said, 'Secrecy is the first essential in affairs of the heart.'"
"It was the Duc de Richelieu," said Lillian, who had read the same book of philosophy during their schoolroom lessons. "And the accurate quote is, 'Secrecy is the first essential in affairs of the State.'"
"He was French, though," Daisy argued. "I'm sure he meant the heart as well."
Lillian laughed and glanced at her sister affectionately. "Perhaps he did. But I don't want to keep secrets from Lord Westcliff."
"Oh, very well. But heed my words- it wouldn't be a true love affair if you didn't have a few little secrets.”
― Lisa Kleypas, It Happened One Autumn

“I want to hide somewhere. I don't want to bear this. I don't want to be strong."
"You don't have to be," Lillian said quietly.
"Yes I do. Because the only other choice is to let myself break into a million pieces."
"I'll hold you together. Every single piece."
A paper-thin smile touched Daisy's lips as she stared into her sister's concerned face. "Lillian," she whispered. "What would I do without you?"
"You'll never have to find out.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“Lillian and Daisy were sisters from New York. Their family, the Bowmans, were astonishingly, vulgarly, almost unimaginably wealthy, having made their fortune with a soap manufacturing business. They had no good blood, no manners, and no social patrons. Lillian was a fiercely loving friend, but also strong-willed and bossy. And Daisy was a dreamer who often fretted that real life was never quite as interesting as the novels she read so voraciously.”
― Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas

“Beatrix... you look lovely. Like a young lady."
Smiling, Beatrix stood and executed a slow turn for her. The pale green dress, with its intricately pleated bodice and dark green corded trim, fit almost perfectly, the skirts falling down the floor. "Lady Westcliff gave it to me," she said. "It belonged to her younger sister, who can't wear it anymore because she's in confinement.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight