“Forgive me for speaking frankly, but after the past quarter-hour's conversation, I am unconvinced that any of you possess the sense or sensitivity to impart the news in any respectful fashion”

“He was right. They could have a whole conversation without exchanging a word. And the conversation they had right now went like this: Colin, shut it. I don’t think I will, M. Then I’ll make you. Really? How?I’m not certain, but it will be slow and painful. And I won’t leave any evidence.”

“We have the oddest conversations.” “I find this conversation more than odd. It’s positively shocking.” “Why? Because I understand the principle of a logarithm? I know you’re used to speaking to me in small, simple words, but I did have the finest education England can offer a young aristocrat. Attended both Eton and Oxford.”“Yes, but . . . somehow, I never pictured you earning high marks in maths.”

“I was afraid. Of getting hurt in other ways. To be truthful, I still am."His thumb stroked her cheek. "I would never hurt you.""I don't think you can promise me that." She squeezed his bruised fingers. "But it makes things a bit more equal, to know that I can hurt you, too."His gaze fell to her lips. He said simply, without any trace of irony, "You are killing me.”

“You can begin by dropping that childish nickname and addressing me in the proper fashion.”

“You don't want me to feel obligated? Well, I'm sorry, Lily. I am herebecause I feel obligated." He brought her hand to his chest, pressing herpalm flat against his rapidly thumping pulse. "I'm obligated by my heart. It'sdecided you're essential to my existence, you see. And it's threatening to go out on labor strike if I don't make you mine this very day. So yes. I am here on bended knee, acting from a deep, undeniable sense of obligation. I am, quite simply, yours." He swallowed hard. "If you'll have me.”

“Forgive me, Your Grace. Are you suggesting a woman is some sort of … piece of fruit to you? One squeeze, and you know if she’s ripe?”