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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #scandalous
For, what is order without common sense, but Bedlam’s front parlor? What is imagination without common sense, but the aspiration to out-dandy Beau Brummell with nothing but a bit of faded muslin and a limp cravat? What is Creation without common sense, but a scandalous thing without form or function, like a matron with half a dozen unattached daughters? And God looked upon the Creation in all its delightful multiplicity, and saw that, all in all, it was quite Amiable. ↗
For a moment she lay still in the big bed, blinking sleepily, loath to move. And then she realized that the angel’s song hadn’t stopped on her waking. Silence sat up. The tantalizingly beautiful voice was coming from the half-open door to Mickey O’Connor’s room. ↗
Silence cleared her throat, fearful her voice would come out a croak. “Is she asleep?” He blinked as if he, too, were waking from a dream, and glanced down at Mary Darling. “Aye, I’m a-thinkin’ she is—she’s stopped fussin’ at me.” Silence felt a huge smile of relief spread over her face. “She was fussing? Oh, how wonderful!” He shot her a look, one eyebrow arching. “Ye’ve taught the child to bully me, too, now?” “Oh, no,” she said hastily, embarrassed. Did he really think she bullied him? What a silly notion! ↗
I must be getting back to my rooms,” Silence said and stood. Mick frowned with displeasure. “Why?” “Because of Mary Darling.” He shrugged. “One o’ the maids is watchin’ her.” “But if Mary wakes she’ll want me.” “Why?” he asked again, biting into a sweetmeat. This discussion wasn’t to his fancy, but sparring with her was. “Because,” she said slowly, looking at him as if he were lack-witted, “she’s only a baby and she loves me.” “Babies,” Mick pronounced, “are a great trouble.” She shook her head, not bothering to reply this time, and started marching to the door. ↗
As I said, I don’t expect you to understand—” “And I don’t,” he cut in. “Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman’s noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband’s coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse.” Her hand flashed out before she’d thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard. Silence had her eyes locked with Michael’s, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play. Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm. He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. “Don’t take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m’love. ↗
He sat and looked at her. “How is Mary Darling?” “Fast asleep after playing and having a bath,” she said. “The nursery is lovely.” “I’m glad you like it.” “Rose and Annie are obviously practiced nursemaids, and what is even better, they seem to like Mary, and she them.” He grunted. “It would take a hard heart to turn away from my Mary Darling.” A smile curved the corners of her lips. “You didn’t seem too enamored of her when you first met.” “She has a forceful personality, as do I. We just took a bit to get to know one another. ↗
He treasured her, treasured her tears, treasured her love for others. Her heart might even be big enough to fill that empty space in his own chest. Perhaps she could be his heart as well. ↗
