Lisa Kleypas Quotations

We all know that being able to express deep emotion can literally save a person's life, and suppressing emotion can kill you both spiritually and physically.

Love is always a leap into the unknown. You can try to control as many variables, and understand a situation as you can, but youre still jumping off a cliff and hoping that someone catches you.

I will admit, I once launched myself at Julie Garwood for a hug, hoping some of her magic would rub off on me... and I have fangirl crushes on Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Linda Howard, and Kresley Cole, among many others.

The way glass can be molded or blown or cut into any kind of shape made me think about how we as people - our characters or souls - can be shaped or changed by outside influences.

I always counsel aspiring novelists that passion is the most important quality for a writer to possess - technique can be taught, but that relentless desire to write has to come from within.

No matter what your profession is, it's good to scare yourself a little from time to time! It's crucial to keep challenging yourself and to learn from people who are more accomplished than you are.

I have always been an obsessive reader - I remember going back and forth to the local library with stacks of books taller than I was.

It's difficult for most of us to be completely honest with ourselves - we hate to admit how vulnerable or needful we are.

Before I write the first page of a novel, I spend a long time creating detailed backgrounds for my characters. I imagine the experiences that have formed them, what makes them happy, angry, fearful, and what they yearn for.

I'd gone to Wellesley College, an amazing women's college where the students were encouraged to follow our dreams. However, after I graduated and had a historical romance published, more than a few people indicated that, in some way, my career choice was a 'waste' of so much education.

My ultimate crush may be Judith McNaught - I met her once more than 20 years ago, and she was incredibly kind and encouraging to me. I adore that woman. But I also fangirl over aspiring or beginning authors, because every time I talk with them, I'm so energized and inspired.

I grew up being very shy, very much a bookworm, and I remember desperately wondering how to be accepted by the popular kids.

This is not Tolstoy. I don't want to know what critics and professors think of what I'm writing. It might hurt my feelings.

When something terrible happens, how you react determines who you are from then on.

We’ll continue our discussion later. Right now I intend to escort Miss Peyton to her room.” “That is not a wise idea, in my opinion,” the earl said. “I’m glad I didn’t ask for it, then,” Simon returned pleasantly

For God's sake, Marks, do you think anyone really wants a glance at those dried-up matchsticks you call legs?

A butterfly symbolized acceptance of each new phase in life. To keep faith as everything around you changed.

What did you do with memories, feelings, needs, that didn’t belong anywhere?

Catherine went still. Her eyes closed against a sudden wet sting. 'Did you accept her proposal?' Leo nuzzled tenderly into the hollow beneath her ear. 'Of course not, pea-goose.

Easy, Marks,' he whispered. 'One of us has to have some self-control, and it really should be you.

Sometimes you meet a really nice guy, but no matter how you try, you can’t seem to make yourself want him. But that’s not nearly as bad as when you meet the wrong guy, and you can’t make yourself not want him.

It’s a risk I’m willing to take. This happens once in a lifetime. You meet someone and have this crazy reaction … you touch her skin and it’s the best skin you’ve ever felt, and no perfume on earth could be better than her smell, and you know you could never be bored with her because she’s interesting even when she’s doing nothing. Even without knowing everything about her, you get her. You know who she is, and it works for you on every level.

Simon,” she whispered, vaguely surprised that she had just used his first name, for she had never used it even in the privacy of her thoughts. Moistening her dry lips, she tried once more, and to her astonishment, she did it again. “Simon…” “Yes?” A new tension had entered his long, hard body, and at the same time, his hand moved over the shape of her skull in the softest caress possible. “Please… take me to my room.” Hunt tilted her head back gently and regarded her with a sudden faint smile playing on his lips. “Sweetheart, I would take you to Timbuktu if you asked.

Hunt seemed similarly indifferent to the show, his head inclined toward hers, his gaze locked on her face. Though his breathing remained soft and disciplined, it seemed to her that its rhythm had changed ever so slightly. Annabelle moistened her dry lips. “You …you mustn’t stare at me like that.” Soft as the murmur was, he caught it. “With you here, nothing else is worth looking at.

No one can tell you what your path is . . . but someday you'll discover it. . . and it won't be at all what you expected.

You shouldn’t rule out second chances. Sometimes they come with interesting bonus features.

Here's your hat, and by the way, I'm a virgin

When I fell in love with you... It was nothing like I'd ever known before. It was nearly instant. I think I started falling for you, the moment you shook my hand... It was so powerful. I knew it was wrong, but it was addicting." - Jack Travis

Just you,' Hardy said when he got his breath back. 'All I want is you.

I never take advice, good or bad. That would only encourage more of it.

I thought I would spend the rest of my life searching for little reminders of you...

Come on, Ella. Sleep green.' Ignoring him, I got into bed wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts printed with penguins. I reached over to the nightstand and flipped off the lamp. A moment of silence, and then I heard a lecherous murmur. 'I like your penguins.

...one can't avoid the storms and calamities of life, but one can at least find the right partner to face them with.

Why is life so difficult for some people and not for others? Why do some people have to struggle so much?

I knew I would replay the scene countless times in the years before me, each time thinking of different things I should have said and done. But all I did was walk away without looking back.

I scowled defensively. "My conversations don't usually include the subject of erections." "Too bad," he said. "All the best conversations do.

Maybe he's not college-smart, but he's smart in a way they can't teach.

But sometimes normal just isn't happening. Sometimes crazy feels too good to resist.

But it was too late now. A lifetime too late. A million wishes too late.

When you're walking through the darkness, you can't depend on anything or anyone else to light your way. You have to rely on whatever sparks you've got inside you. Or you're going to get lost.

I felt the kind of loneliness that can happen in a roomful of people when everyone but you seems to be in on the good time.

His quiet certainty made the ground beneath my feet feel solid. Like someday everything might actually be okay.

Girlfriend, if you're waiting for a fairy godmother to show up with a dress and a ride, you're not going to make it to the party.

Because letting someone in close meant they could hurt you. I knew all about that kind of fear. I lived with it.

Dad," I said hesitantly, "I wish you could be there for me even when I'm doing the wrong thing. I wish you could love me even when I'm screwing up.

But when you started dating someone, you could never be sure what you were getting into. You had to give someone a chance to show you who he really was . . . and believe him when he did.

Hardy Cates," I said, coming into the room, "you behave, or I'll step on your tube." The nurse seemed taken aback by my unsympathetic bedside manner. But Hardy's gaze met mine in a moment of bright, hot voltage, and he relaxed, reassured in a way that cooing sympathy could never have done. "That only works if it's a breathing tube," he told me.

I had to let go of him. But I knew that as long as I lived, I would feel the phantompain of his absence.

Hardy's either done the wrong thing for the wrong reason . . . " Another big swallow. "Or the wrong thing for the right reason.

I'm not running away from my fears," I told Dane. "I'm running away from my relatives.

We were each other's only link to the past . . . that was the strength of our bond, and also our weakness.

Sometimes the closest-held secrets in the world can be pried out by the right question at the right time.

Roy received my comments with a forced smile. "Hardy, didn't I warn you not to date a woman who reads?" Hardy seemed amused by my outspokenness. "Keeps the arguing to a minimum," he replied. "No point in trying when I know she's going to win.

Falling hard and fast. And there didn't seem to be a thing I could do about it.

It was a train wreck happening right in front of me and I couldn't do anything about it, except that not only was I watching, I was also the train.

I didn't expect it was going to be easy. But hard work is a lot easier to tolerate when it's something you want to do instead of something you have no choice about.

There is no peace in poverty

I didn't know how to stop wanting him. It wasn't that I had any hope—I knew I'd never see him again. But that didn't stop me from comparing every other man to Hardy and finding them all lacking. I had exhausted myself loving him.

The freedom of saying anything to him, telling all, relieved a burden I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying. In my relentless push to keep moving forward, there had been so many emotions I hadn't let myself inhabit fully, so many things I hadn't talked about. Now I couldn't quite catch up to myself.

But I think if it's the right person, you wouldn't have to work so hard at intimacy. I think—hope—it would just happen naturally. Otherwise, opening up to the wrong person..." I made a face. "Like putting ammo in their hands.

It would only lead to disappointment, even heartbreak, and her heart was too precious for me to let that happen.

When you love a child, you forgive her before she can even ask. Basically you've already forgiven her for things she hasn't even done yet.

But we have to find ways of compromising when we disagree on something. You know what compromise is, right?" "Uh-huh. It's when you don't get to have everything your way and I don't get to have everything my way, and no one's happy.

He stared at me with bitter understanding. We both knew there was no room in this for friendship. Nothing left but childhood history.

Our gazes met. It seemed an entire conversation took place in that one glance. Each of us saw what we needed to know.

I want you to admit just once what you feel for me. I want to know if you'll miss me even a little. If you'll remember me. If you're sorry for anything.

As we talked, I had the sense of uncovering something precious and long-buried, fully formed. Our conversation was a process of removing layers, some of them easily dusted away. Other layers, requiring chisels or axes, were left alone for now. We revealed as much as we dared about what had happened during the years that separated us. But it wasn't what I had expected, being with Hardy again. There was something in me that remained stubbornly locked away, as if I were afraid to let out the emotion I had harbored for so long.

Be happy, honey. No one deserves it more. But don't forget... I'm keeping one little piece of your heart for myself. And if you ever want it back.. .you know where to find it.

From what I was able to hear," Dane said, "Tara dumped off a surprise baby with your mother, who's planning to sell it on eBay." "Social Services," I said. "She hasn't thought of eBay yet.

Dane was shaking his head firmly. "Don't bring it here, Ella. No babies." I gave him a dark look. "What if it were a baby polar bear or a baby Galapagos penguin? I bet you'd want it then." "I'd make an exception for endangered species," he allowed. "This baby is endangered. It's with my mother.

He had found my worst weakness: I was one of those people who was desperate to be needed, to matter to someone.

Of all the things he wants," Liberty said, "money's the easiest to get.

Make your choice and accept the consequences.

Sometimes I'm not nice for a reason. It's a way to find out what someone's made of.

The Travises who had survived were the most purely stubborn people on earth, the kind who relied on their backbones when their wishbones were broken.

He was my confidant, the person who was always on my side even when he wasn't taking my side.

I lacked some essential skill for attracting people, for giving and receiving love easily. It meant too much to me. I seemed to be driving away the people I most wanted. Finally I had realized that getting someone to love you was like trying to coax a bird to perch on your finger . . . it wouldn't happen unless you stopped trying so hard.

Why was love so easy for some people and so hard for others?

Somehow I knew that no matter what I chose to tell or to keep secret, he would understand.

I'm scared of making the biggest mistake of my life. I'm just trying to figure out what the mistake is.

Because you need me," he said, drawing in his breath as she squirmed against him. "Just as I need you." He crushed his mouth to hers. "I've needed you for years." Another kiss, this one deep and drugging, his tongue searching her intimately

On Monday they went out for a private picnic. On Tuesday they went for a carriage drive. On Wednesday they went to pick bluebells. On Thursday they fished at the lake, returning with damp clothes and sun-glazed complexions, laughing together at a joke they didn't share with anyone else. On Friday they danced together at an impromptu musical evening, looking so well matched one of the guests remarked it was a pleasure to watch them. On Saturday Matthew woke up wanting to murder someone.

I realized that my kisses with Dane had become a form of punctuation, the quotations or the hasty dash at the end of a conversation

Some questions change everything.

Neither of us seemed able to be close to anyone. Not even each other. Closeness meant the one you loved the most would cause you the most damage. How did you unlearn that? It was woven deep between every fiber and vessel. You couldn't cut it out.

Heath," she whispered, "you're all I want. No one else ... no one . . .

I loved him so much, loved his fearlessness, his strength, even the ambition that would someday take him away from me.

Pretend you're mine," he urged, his arms closing around her. "Just for a minute. Pretend there's never been anyone but me, that I'm the one you're promised to. Do it for me....I'll never ask again.

A book had always been a door to another world... a world much more interesting and fantastical than reality. But she had finally discovered that life could be even more wonderful than fantasy. And that love could fill the real world with magic.

- No, no... She shook her head for emphasis. No. His lips twitched. - One 'no' is enough, darling.

If I never have anything from him except this one moment I am going to take it. Take it now, or drown in regret later.

Leo knew next to nothing about governesses, save for the drab creatures in novels, who tended to fall in love with the lord of the manor, always with bad results.

And you're not the kind of girl I want." Surely he couldn't mean the fact that I was Mexican. From what I knew of Hardy, there wasn't a bit of prejudice in him. He never used racist words, never looked down on someone for things they couldn't help. "What kind do you want?" I asked with difficulty. "Someone I can leave without looking back.

I think you'll have to marry me, Miss Fielding." "To save your reputation?" Derek grinned, bending to kiss the flash of pale throat revealed by the robe. "Someone has to make a respectable man of me.

One of the women at the clinic had remarked dryly that Harrow's personal magnetism not only affected men, women and children but also extended to armoires, assorted chairs and the nearby goldfish in a bowl.

Babies were dangerous . . . they made you fall in love before you knew what was happening.

Most of the time when couples argue, it’s not really about the thing they’re fighting about; there’s a deeper reason why they’re arguing.

What are their names? Psycho and Killer?" He shook his head. "Cupcake and Twinkie." My mouth dropped open. "You're kidding." A grin flitted across his lips. "Afraid not." If naming them after dessert snacks had been Miss Marva's attempt to make them seem cute, it wasn't working.

When the pace of our feet matched perfectly, I felt a deep inner pang of satisfaction. I could have gone on walking like that forever, side by side with him. There had been few times in my life I had ever inhabited a moment so fully, with no loneliness lurking at the edges.

Bitterly I wondered if Hardy was going to overshadow every relationship for the rest of my life, haunting me like a ghost. I didn't know how to let him go. I'd never even had him.