On the contrary, she was aware only of a sort of timelessness, as though it was all part of a plan, a predestined design, conceived the day she was born. What was happening to her had been meant to happen, what was going to go on happening. Without any recognizable beginning, it did not seem possible that it could ever have an end. Rosamunde Pilcher
In this world, it is too common for people to search for someone to lose themselves in. But I am already lost. I will look for someone to find myself in.
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C. Joybell C.
The results of knowledge without application results in nothing at all. Do what you know better to do.
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DeWayne Owens
...an irresistible of why we read and why we love. We are not quite novels. We are not quite short stories. In the end, we are collected works.
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Gabrielle Zevin
I believe in strong women. I believe in the woman who is able to stand up for herself. I believe in the woman who doesn't need to hide behind her husband's back. I believe that if you have problems, as a woman you deal with...
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C. Joybell C.
Never waste any amount of time doing anything important when there is a sunset outside that you should be sitting under!
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C. Joybell C.
More Quotes By Rosamunde Pilcher
Marriage isn't a love affair. It isn't even a honeymoon. It's a job. A long hard job, at which both partners have to work, harder than they've worked at anything in their lives before. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>If it's a good marriage, it changes, it evolves,...
Her family... Love and involvement brought joy, but as well could become a hideously heavy millstone slung about one's neck. And the worst was that she felt useless because there was not a mortal thing she could do to help resolve their problems.
She was always left feeling like a murderer. Because the messenger becomes the murderer. Until the fatal words are spoken, the loved one concerned is still alive, waking, sleeping, going about his business, making telephone calls, writing letters, going for walks, breathing, seeing. It was...
Love she had found, had a strange way of multiplying. Doubling, trebling itself, so that, as each child arrived, there was always more than enough to go around.
She had loved them all, her children. Loved each one the best, but for different reasons.
