#isa

When your mother is made out of your dreams, anything real is bound to disappoint you. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#dream #real #dreams

When people change, I’m disappointed they’re not who I remember them being. And when people don’t change, I’m disappointed they still are who they were. All people do is disappoint, and I do mean all people.
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#disappointment #memory #people #remember #change

Isabella with her whip and boots and knives would chop anyone who tried to pen her up in a tower into pieces, build a bridge out of the remains, and walk carelessly to freedom, her hair looking fabulous the entire time. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#isabella #freedom

It isn't the happy ending Ingrid and I had dreamed up, but it's all a part of what I'm working through. The way life changes. The way people and things disappear. Then appear, unexpectedly, and hold you close. ↗

— Nina LaCour

#disappear #happy-ending #inspiration #life #love

He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. "Lass, I have never lied to you. I adore you and there have never been any other women from the future here. And these"- he flung a tampon in the air- "cleaning swabs, I cannot fathom why they upset you so greatly, but I assure you I have never let the maids use them." Lisa's brow furrowed. No man could be so stupid. "Cleaning Swabs?" He snatched up a gun and jerked the barrel in her direction, and an unwrapped tampon shot out. It was coated with black from the slow corrosion of the steel. She eyed it for a moment, bent, and plucked it from the floor. "You clean your guns with these?" He lowered the gun. "Is that not the purpose for which they were designed? I vow I could not conceive of another." Didn't you read the box?" There were too many words I didn't understand! ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#higlander #lisa-stone #design

Love should not make us blind to faults, nor familiarity make us too ready to blame the shortcomings we see. ↗

— Louisa May Alcott

#louisa-may-alcott #love #love

Mrs. Jo did not mean the measles, but that more serious malady called love, which is apt to ravage communities, spring and autumn, when winter gayety and summer idleness produce whole bouquets of engagements, and set young people to pairing off like the birds. ↗

— Louisa May Alcott

#louisa-may-alcott #love #love

…I wanted to show that the mother was the heroine as soon as possible. I'm tired of love-sick girls and runaway wives. We'll prove that there's romance in old women also. ↗

— Louisa May Alcott

#jo-s-boys #louisa-may-alcott #love

Don't take it away! It's only a fancy, but a man must love something… ↗

— Louisa May Alcott

#louisa-may-alcott #love #love

By all means, let's show your father what a bad influence I've been on his little girl.” "He won't think that at all. He's always adored you for having rescued his fallen daughter.” "And his daughter? What does she think about it?” "She thinks that ..." Lucy paused and cast a swift glance over her head, "that you have been very remiss in failing to notice that she is standing right underneath a sprig of mistletoe." His laughter was soft and lazy, eliciting a delicious chill from the pit of her stomach. While he stared into her eyes, he reached up, plucked the mistletoe from the top of the doorframe, and slipped the small green sprig into his pocket. "For later," he said, and smiled at her. ↗

— Lisa Kleypas

#lisa-kleypas #love-come-to-me #lucy #love