“There were times, however, when a man had to make a strategic retreat to win the game.”

“I enjoyed reading when I was a boy, but these days, I read all the time and it has rather taken the pleasure out of it for me. When I am at leisure, reading is the last thing I want to do.”“That makes sense, I suppose. But for me, reading is an adventure. It makes me an armchair traveler and takes me places I shall never be able to go.”

“Olivia watched him through a blur of tears, despising the futility of it. For there was nothing she could say to comfort a man whose family was long dead; there was no balm to heal wounds that scored a man's soul; and there was no way to make a man believe in the ties that bind.”

“Hate and anger were what had kept him alive. He had fed on them for so long, they were the only emotions he recognized, the only ones he still knew how to feel.And yet, right now, surrounded by the warmth of the three precious girls who were using him as a pillow, hate seemed very far away, crowded out by things unknown and yet familiar, impossible things. Love. A feeling of belonging. A sense of peace.He closed his eyes. It was all an illusion. He didn't belong anywhere. He didn't know what love was anymore. And peace . . . Christ, what was that? So Conor sat listening to the rain and stealing a few moments of trust and affection he did not deserve from three wee girls who were not his. And he reminded himself at least twice that night that he was not a family man.”

“Marry me and make an honest man of me in my butler’seyes.” He kissed her. “Marry me and save me from having to chase loose women for the rest of my life.”He kissed her again. “Marry me, darling,” he said once more against her lips. “Because I adore you.”

“The human heart must be a strong and resilient thing, Daphne decided when she awoke the following morning. She was surprised to find that she was no longer in the throes of wrenching heartbreak and pain. Instead, in a strange way, she felt as if she had been reborn.”

“He likes you,” Miss Dove said, sounding surprised.“Yes,” Harry answered with an unhappy sigh. He had long ago accepted the fact that cats adored him. The reason, of course, was because both God and cats had the same perverse sense of humor. When the animal buried its claws in his thigh and began to knead with happy abandon, he set his jaw and bore it. “Mr. Pigeon? Rather fitting for you to choose that name, Miss Dove. Both birds, you know.”