Pamela

“You have to live each hour as if it's your last and each day as if you were immortal. - Kate Sheffield”
― Julia Quinn, The Viscount Who Loved Me

“Julian," she said huskily, "you were right the other morning. You know me so well. I'm not made for illicit affaires, all that sneaking around to avoid discovery." In the dark, her hands crept up to his shoulders, then his face. Her finger teased through his hair. "Why should we hide at all? Let all London see us together. I don't care what anyone says or thinks. I love you, and I want the world to know."
He wanted to weep. For joy, for frustration. She was so brave, his beautiful Lily, and the situation was so damned unfair. It wasn't her fault that she made these heartrending declarations at a moment when their lives were probably in danger and he couldn't possibly reciprocate. That fault was his, for choosing to live the way he had and making the decisions he'd made. He didn't deserve her, didn't deserve her love. He most certainly didn't merit those warm brushes of her lips against his skin. But damned if he could bring himself to stop them.
"We're in love, Julian. Isn't it wonderful?"
"No," he murmured as she kissed him again. "It's not wonderful. It's a disaster."
Her lips grazed his jaw, then his throat. "I can feel you speaking, and I know you're probably making some valiant protest. But you know I can't hear those words. Your body is making an altogether different argument, and I'm listening to it." Her fingers crept inside his waistcoat, splaying over the thin lawn of his shirt. "Take your heart, for example."
Yes, take it. Take it and keep it, always.”
― Tessa Dare, Three Nights with a Scoundrel

“You are the patient one, Mademoiselle,' said Poirot to Miss Debenham.

She shrugged her shoulders slightly. 'What else can one do?'

You are a philosopher, Mademoiselle.'

That implies a detached attitude. I think my attitude is more selfish. I have learned to save myself useless emotion.”
― Agatha Christie, Murder on the Orient Express

“In every life there is a turning point. A moment so tremendous, so sharp and clear that one feels as if one's been hit in the chest, all the breath knocked out, and one knows, absolutely knows without the merest hint of a shadow of a doubt that one's life will never be the same.”
― Julia Quinn, When He Was Wicked