Synne

“The despair in books was a distant, safe thing. She'd thought she understood the depth of the emotion as she read through the pages of her beloved books, her life touching those of men and women long dead. She's felt for them, cried for them, tried to breathe for them when they no longer breathed. And then, she'd been able to close the book and place it on its shelf, the word trapped between the leather covers.
Oh, sometimes it had taken her hours or days to recover from a particularly emotional book, but there'd always be another to take her mind off the anguish.
There were no books here.”
― Cynthia Hand, My Lady Jane

“I know I'm not inspiring much confidence at this point, but there's something else I thought I'd bring up.” She lifted her eyes to him. “I love you more than I love books.”
― Cynthia Hand, My Lady Jane

“She delighted in the smell of the ink, the rough feel of the paper between her fingers, the rustle of sweet pages, the shapes of letters before her eyes.”
― Cynthia Hand, My Lady Jane

“On everyone’s lap rested a book. Any book. In case the wedding got boring.”
― Cynthia Hand, My Lady Jane