Julie Klassen Quotes & Sayings

The apothecary of this country is qualified by education to attend at the bedside of the sick, and, being in general better acquainted with pharmacy than the physicians of English universities ... is often the most successful practitioner.
JEREMIAH JENKINS, OBSERVATIONS ON THE PRESENT STATE OF THE PROFESSION AND TRADE OF MEDICINE, 1810
For — Julie Klassen

Come to think of it, she did not speak a word. Yet I could have sworn she had the most beautiful voice. — Julie Klassen

room below and a bedchamber above. — Julie Klassen

In fact, with each of my novels I have been surprised by something that happens that I had not thought of beforehand. — Julie Klassen

This is real life, Master Stephen. Happily ever after takes effort. — Julie Klassen

I'm sorry you never got to live the life you wanted. Or see the world. Have an adventure." He chuckled low in his throat. "Oh, no? I'd say we were having quite the adventure, you and I. They always said to be careful what you wish for, but I wouldn't listen. — Julie Klassen

Live or die my heart is yours, Sophie Dupont. — Julie Klassen

When you set yourself on fire, people love to come and see you burn. — Julie Klassen

I have wanted to write from a young age, but working with so many gifted authors and editors over the years has taught me so much. I doubt I would be where I am today without that amazing experience. — Julie Klassen

I believe a novel must first of all be a good story. My hope is that the spiritual message is woven in so well, is such a part of the fabric of the story and of the characters' lives, that it is subtle but meaningful. This is difficult to do well and is something I constantly endeavor to improve. — Julie Klassen

I wish it back," she said in uncharacteristic sharpness. "I don't care to cast blame. I just want it back. It is, after all, my personal property. Not meant for anyone else to read." "Full of juicy secrets, is it?" Julian asked, eyes glinting. "About you? Or about all of us?" "Perhaps I shall have to track down this ghost and claim the journal myself," Rowan said. "Sounds like interesting reading." Emma lifted her chin. "I assure you, you would find it frightfully dull." "Your blush tells a different tale." Julian smirked. — Julie Klassen

Shut your trap, boy. You are hereby disinherited. Davies! I want a new will. — Julie Klassen

Whenever you give any living creature cause to depend on you, be careful on no account to disappoint it. — Julie Klassen

The virtue of silence is highly commendable, and will contribute greatly to your ease and prosperity. The best proof of wisdom is to talk little, but to hear much. . . . - SAMUEL & SARAH ADAMS, THE COMPLETE SERVANT, 1825 — Julie Klassen

Flogging will continue until morale improves. — Julie Klassen

How strange that he had kept this small amateur watercolor. She did not recall giving it to him. Did he not know it was by her hand? Perhaps he had stuck it into the volume to mark some place long ago and had completely forgotten about it, and when he found it later did not remember the artist was the very woman who had spurned him, the woman he despised. Surely he would not have kept it had he remembered. — Julie Klassen

Where has God promised to fulfill our every whim according to the minutia of our earthly desires? Where has He promised to keep us from suffering or disappointment? Things He did not spare His own Son? You were raised in one of the finest manors in the borough, by a man and woman who could not have loved you better. You have been given the best education, the best of everything. You are of sound mind and limb, and yet you dare to rail at God? I for one grow weary of it. Now leave off simpering like an ungrateful brat and make something of this new life you've been given. — Julie Klassen

How rough your hands still are."
Embarrassed, she made to pull them away, but he held them fast. "Yet never have I longed to kiss any woman's hands as I long to kiss these. — Julie Klassen

I received so many positive comments about the quotes that I decided to continue to use them in my novels. — Julie Klassen

She looked down, kicking a little clump of grass with her slipper. "I suppose you will look at me differently now."
"How so?"
"Now that you know I am not who you thought I was. Who I thought I was."
"Oh, are you not human after all?" He teased, "Are you actually a woodland water Sprite or famed West Country pixie?"
"No."
He took a step nearer.
"You are still Lady Amelia's pride and joy. Still headstrong, still a bruising rider and righter of wrongs, still the bravest and most foolish woman that I know, still determined to lead ever dance, and still and incorrigible flirt. Is that not true?"
She hesitated, torn between offense and amusement. "Yes, I...I suppose it is."
"Then you are still exactly the woman I thought."
"Very funny. — Julie Klassen

Slowly, carefully, he pulled the wig from her head. He asked, bemused, "You just happened to have this lying about?" "I meant to wear it for a masquerade." He chuckled, deep in his throat. An intimate sound that warmed her. "And you certainly did. The longest masquerade in history. — Julie Klassen

Like it or not, sin has consequences. Which is why God lovingly warns us against it. Thankfully, He is merciful and ready to forgive if we ask Him. But that doesn't erase natural consequences of our actions. Cause and effect."
"The Secret of Pembrooke Park. — Julie Klassen

The schoolroom . . . Olivia had always adored its confines and endless horizons. The melodious purr of the teacher's voice rising up and down her lessons like a musical score. And the sight of book spines--black, blue, green--lined up side by side like London townhouses. Each leather rectangle a gift waiting to be opened and explored and savored. — Julie Klassen

She sighed and set the letter aside. Hoping for — Julie Klassen

He says if we are all very good, and pray hard, Mother will get better. Do you think it true?" "It's certainly not fair." "Fair?" "For your father to put that responsibility on you. Forgive me, I mean no disrespect, but do you really think God works that way? If we do the things we ought, He'll preserve those we hold dear, but if we forget or neglect our duty, He'll bring down calamity upon us and those we love? — Julie Klassen

The human heart, no matter what age, will only open to the heart that opens in return. — Julie Klassen

He had learned from repeated error not to ignore these quiet proddings, whether of conscience or of God. — Julie Klassen

Mr. Upchurch," she fumbled. "I . . . I must take my leave directly. But before I go, allow me to say how sorry I am for the callous way I treated you in the past. I regret it most keenly."
His heart squeezed even as he felt his brows rise. "Do you?"
She swallowed. "I was wrong about you. I was wrong about a great many things. — Julie Klassen

I am asked to submit a 2-3 page synopsis to my publisher ahead of time, so by the time I begin writing, I have a fair idea of where the story will begin, the main conflicts, and the basic ending point. But that still leaves plenty of room for changes and discovery along the way. — Julie Klassen

He began quietly, "You recall, of course, that I won the Smallwood spelling contest every year I was there?" "Yes, Mr. Weston," she replied evenly, eyes remaining on the portrait. "And you might also recall that your father declared my handwriting the best he'd ever had the privilege to read?" "Yes, Mr. Weston." He looked at her composed profile and felt admiration fill him. When she said no more, he slowly shook his head, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "Well done, Miss Smallwood." He started to turn away but paused to add, "He did admire you, you know. He just didn't know how to show it." She gave him an incredulous look. "Mr. Pugsworth?" "Yes," Henry said, then walked away, thinking, Him too. — Julie Klassen

Love without fear . . ." Miss Foster murmured, considering the notion. "It doesn't sound very practical, I'm afraid. For the more one loves, the more one has to fear losing." He looked at her, a grin tugging his mouth. "Impractical, maybe. Difficult, yes. But what a beautiful way to live. — Julie Klassen

Eye on the shuttlecock, she ran forward, raised her battledore high, and slammed right into Henry Weston's chest. The wind knocked from her, Emma lost her balance and might have fallen had not Mr. Weston's arms shot out and caught her about the waist and shoulder. "Oh," she cried, embarrassed to have plowed into the man. Embarrassed to find his arms around her. Embarrassed to find she liked it. "I'm so sorry," she blurted, pushing away from him. "Don't be. I admire your singular focus. My goodness, Miss Smallwood, where is the timid little creature who flinched at every flying bird as though it were a cricket ball headed for her nose?" Emma straightened and righted her off-kilter bonnet. "I was determined not to embarrass myself," she admittedly breathlessly. "Only to do just that." He chuckled, and their eyes met in a moment of shared levity. Then he sobered. "Thank you for the laugh, Miss Smallwood. Just what I needed after yesterday. — Julie Klassen

Father, we are grateful that you are our perfect eternal King, sovereign forever, and that you love us and forgive us and adopt us as son and daughter. We are in reality unworthy peasants, but you see us as prince and princess, children of the King, through the sacrifice of your Son, Jesus, our savior and deliverer, and it is in His name we pray. Amen. — Julie Klassen

I find research fascinating and always conduct some before I begin writing, and then fill in the rest as needed. I read stacks of books and also had the opportunity to travel to England to do more research. — Julie Klassen

He felt again the sharp kick of jealousy, the iron weight of dread he had felt two years ago when he realized, She doesn't look at me that way. . . . And he'd tried to ignore the growing fear that he was losing her. To his very own brother. A man who would never appreciate her, never love her as he did. — Julie Klassen

Yes.' Her throat tightened. 'But my father is a clergyman.'

Mrs. Turrill brought her face near, and looked solemnly into her eyes. 'Yes. she agreed. 'But the clergyman is also a father. — Julie Klassen

Having been an editor for more than a decade, I thought I had a good idea of how much work was involved in writing a novel. I was wrong! Writing is a lot harder than I ever imagined - but worth it. — Julie Klassen

manage to slip out before Maurice read the note. — Julie Klassen

Next came the drawing room and Abigail stared in surprise. It appeared as though the occupants had just been called away. A tea set sat on the round table, cups encrusted with dry tea. A book lay open over the arm of the sofa. A needlework project, nearly finished, lay trapped under an overturned chair. What had happened here? Why had the family left so abruptly, and why had the rooms been entombed for almost two decades? — Julie Klassen

While researching my first book, I discovered so many fascinating tidbits that I wanted to share them with readers to remind them that while the book was fiction, the situations were based on historical realities - some of which were pretty hard to believe. — Julie Klassen

What is it about men and swords? — Julie Klassen

You are free to go, Father," she whispered. "We are all of us free."
Olivia finally understood what Mr Tugwell had tried to tell her. This was how it was for every fallen crteature. Christ bore the penalty we each deserve, to purchase our freedom. — Julie Klassen

That the clematis are climbing the wall — Julie Klassen

Her voice sounding young and nearly giddy in her ears, she asked, "Are you certain, sir, you ought to kiss a housemaid?" No answering chuckle. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life," he whispered, his breath tickling her upper lip with each syllable. — Julie Klassen

I have been praying, too, for the first time in my life. That parson, Tugwell, he helped me see - not the error of my ways, for I knew them all to well already - but what was wanting in me. I am far from perfect, I know, but I am changed and changing still — Julie Klassen

She smiled and feigned enthusiasm, although she cared little for the game. Sometimes that's what you did for the people you loved. — Julie Klassen

For my second novel, The Apothecary's Daughter, my editor encouraged me to think of another unusual profession for a woman to have. That led to the main character, Lilly Haswell, who finds herself doing the work of an apothecary at a time when it was illegal for women to do so. — Julie Klassen

Emma shivered again, and Mr. Weston noticed. "You're cold. Here, take this." He began to peel off his greatcoat, but she stayed him with a hand to his sleeve. "Don't. I'm fine." Realizing she had touched him, she snatched back her hand and forced a chuckle. "It is only your gruesome story. — Julie Klassen

Emptiness gnawed at Emma. Could she> face death without fear? If she were to show up at heaven's door tomorrow, would God even recognize her, when it had been so long since she'd bothered to call on Him? — Julie Klassen

Don't allow any man to treat you as less than you are. — Julie Klassen

Village life is like an ivy vine climbing a great oak. You cut off the vine at the root, and all the way up the tree, the leaves wither. We're all connected." For — Julie Klassen

And of course, I had to see you today, on your birthday." "You remembered?" He turned to her, expression earnest. "I remember everything about you, Miss Macy. Every moment between us - the good and the bad. — Julie Klassen

Her face was still rosy from the carriage ride and exertion of the swing. In his view, this Margaret Macy was far more appealing than the powdered, perfectly coiffed lady of the ballroom. She looked unaffected, spirited, and breathtakingly beautiful. Had her father not been in the room he likely would have said so. — Julie Klassen

One might open the book idly, but one never knows what treasures one might find. — Julie Klassen

Stepping toward her, he raised his left hand, mirroring her right, close but not quite touching. His palm was bigger, his fingers thicker and longer than hers. He asked wryly, "Am I exonerated?" She swallowed. "In this, yes." He cocked his head to one side, mouth twisted in an ironic grin. "Will you never forgive me the rest? — Julie Klassen

Thunder and turf! — Julie Klassen

I am glad you came to Fairbourne Hall." She glanced at him, uncertain. "Are you?" "Yes," he said, mouth quirked in a lopsided grin. "We needed a new maid." He leaned in for another kiss. — Julie Klassen

I have not yet proven myself."
"I don't care if you succeed or not."
"But I do. And pretending. there is a future for us, allowing myself to hope, to-" he reached out and touched her soft cheek.
"It would only make it more difficult for me when the inevitable happens." He held her gaze, willing her to see all the sentiments he knew he should not express.
"The inevitable?"
He sighed. "When you marry someone else." There he'd said it. What should she do now, now that he had taken her no doubt light flirtation and carried it out to its logical conclusion like a killjoy?
"Who says it's inevitable?" She pouted, and he saw a glimpse of the adorable little girl she's once been.
He smiled indulgently. "I do." He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.
"And it's time that you accepted that fact as well."
He resolutely stepped to the door and gestured for her to precede him from the room. — Julie Klassen

The body might be engaged in the most base drudgery, but always the mind can be thinking on whatever is lovely, pure, noble. — Julie Klassen

I found I quite enjoyed having you under the same roof. Being able to see you, hear your voice many times a day. I miss that." His eyes locked on hers. "I miss you. — Julie Klassen

I wish to speak with Mr. Pembrooke, if — Julie Klassen

At the door he turned and looked back. She stood, facing away from him, the sunlight from the window enshrouding her in an unmerited halo of gold. Perhaps, he thought, that was how God saw all His children. Selfish and fallen, yes. But in the forgiving light of His Son, each wore an unmerited halo — Julie Klassen

You do trust Mr. Tugwell, do you not?"

Did he? Trust Tugwell with his secret? Perhaps. Trust him with Miss Keene? The man had fathered five children in six years. No, he did not trust Charles Tugwell with Miss Keene. — Julie Klassen

What did she want him to say - that he was still hurt over his disappointment with Margaret Macy? After all this time? It was imbecilic. He would not do it. — Julie Klassen

A portrait is like an ornamental headstone. It is not for the subject, but for those who look upon it. For those you want to remember. — Julie Klassen

Margaret . . ." The name was part groan, part growl. She was filled with a sweet, aching longing to bridge the lingering space between them. She leaned down and their lips met in a feather touch. Sparks thrilled her every nerve. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, pressing his mouth to hers, fervently, fiercely. Her head felt light, her pulse pounded. What was she doing? The heady, delicious kiss took her off guard. She had never expected such a passionate, forceful embrace from a man she had once thought timid. A man who doesn't know what he is doing, she reminded herself. Who is dreaming. She, on the other hand, knew very well what she was doing. She tried to pull away but, leaning over as she was, fell forward, her elbows spearing his chest. Crying out, she scrambled out of his hold and to her feet. — Julie Klassen

How long had it had been since she'd thought back on the evenings around the fire, number games at the kitchen table, or listening to her father sing? Too long. Yes, there had been bad times. And she had tallied them like figures in a column, not remembering to factor in the good. She had doctored the books. — Julie Klassen

Seeing you puts me in mind of a piece of French chocolate." She swallowed and took another step backward. "If one wants to discover what is inside, one must first remove the foreign wrapping. — Julie Klassen

Miss Aubrey, come and have pity on us. We are reading novels and feel our manliness diminishing by the moment. Come restore our vanity, do, and tell us we look the dashing officers we once were. — Julie Klassen

Chapman's profile came into view, though he — Julie Klassen

And that love letter you wrote," Rowan added helpfully. "Signing it with another chap's name." Emma Smallwood's eyes widened, and she turned to look at him, brows high. Henry felt his neck heat. His cravat seemed suddenly far too tight. "That's right," Phillip nodded as the memory returned to him. "Pugsworth, was it not?" Julian grinned at Miss Smallwood, clearly enjoying himself. "Did you really think this Pugsworth fellow in love with you?" Heaven help him, Henry hoped she wouldn't burst into disillusioned tears. Not all these years later. And not over Milton Pugsworth. But Miss Smallwood remained her imperturbable self. "Goodness no," she said. "For all his faults, Mr. Pugsworth spelled exceptionally well and had the neatest hand I ever saw. Your brother, on the other hand, never did learn to spell. And I recognized his sloppy scratchings the moment I saw them." Phillip gave her a long look of amused approval. "Bravo, Emma. — Julie Klassen

But I don't think any parent can expect to escape this life without disappointing his child at some point. And the same could be said the other way around. We all of us fall short now and again, and disappoint someone dear to us, or ourselves. Thankfully, my parents have always been the forgiving sort. — Julie Klassen

How he longed to be her rescuer, her brave knight. To prove he was more than the mischievous troublemaker she remembered and likely still thought him. — Julie Klassen

I remember everything about you, Miss Macy. Every moment between us - the good and the bad." He chuckled dryly. "Though I prefer to linger on more recent pleasant moments. — Julie Klassen

I've managed to include only enough historical detail to give the "flavor" of the time period while keeping the characters and story focal. — Julie Klassen

What were you doing talking to that man?" Emma lifted her chin to look him in the eye. "He was talking to me. I was only being polite." "Well, don't be. Do you hear me, Miss Smallwood? Stay away from him. — Julie Klassen

As Lewis passed behind her, he patted her bottom. Margaret's face flushed hot. She craned to look over her other shoulder. Lewis sauntered on. At his door, he turned, winked at her, and then let himself into his room without a flicker of embarrassment. What insolence! She reminded herself that he didn't know who she was. But was patting a maid's bottom any better? — Julie Klassen

How pleasant to escape for an hour or two into the company of a treasured friend. — Julie Klassen

You don't wear jewelry, do you? Besides your wedding ring, I mean?'

'Now often. If is not that I disapprove. I simply don't take the time to bother with it. I've been given a few trinkets over the years, but rarely wear them.' Thora looked down at her hand, the plain thin wedding band, the unadorned wrist, and a memory struck her. She said, 'Frank gave me a gift once - a find gold bracelet with a blue enamel heart dangling from it. He said it was to remind me that I was more than his helpmeet and housekeeper, but also an attractive woman. I was sure I'd break the delicate chain, and the heart clacked against the desk whenever I wrote in the ledger. So I put it back in its box, and there it has remained ever since.'

Nan said gently, 'We've all been given gifts, Thors, and ought not to hide them away. They remind us that we are blessed and loved. They give pleasure to those who see them - especially to the one who bestowed the gift in the first place. — Julie Klassen

Words are important to me. I listen to each one, weigh and measure it. If I cannot trust your words, how can I trust you? — Julie Klassen

I love you, Margaret Macy. And there is something I need to ask you. Something I've asked twice before and am nearly afraid to ask again. The Scriptures say let our yes be yes and our no be no, but I pray, in your case, your no may have changed . . . ?"
Margaret leaned forward and kissed him firmly, warmly, on the lips. Then she smiled at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, it most definitely has. — Julie Klassen

He broke away to catch his breath, but his mouth was soon drawn back to her skin, kissing her temple, her forehead, one cheek, then the other. "Mr. Weston," she breathed shakily. "I . . . I think - " "I think you might call me Henry at this point, don't you?" he teased. — Julie Klassen

I need to hear the words of this book - its truth, forgiveness, hope - as much as anybody." Nathaniel looked up with an apologetic smile. "I know I'm no great orator. But I ask you to bear with me as I fumble through this new duty. — Julie Klassen

In 1770, a British law was proposed to Parliament granting grounds for annulment if a bride used cosmetics prior to her wedding day.
- Marjorie Dorfman, The History of Make-up — Julie Klassen

What a lovely evening," Abigail said to break the silence.
She felt his gaze on her profile. "Lovely indeed. — Julie Klassen

is a balm having your father here with us — Julie Klassen

Ooh la la! A real gothic romance, I don't doubt. What secrets and scandals it must contain." She wagged her eyebrows comically. "Now that's a book that might very well hold my attention. — Julie Klassen

You are so appealing, Miss Foster, every bit as beautiful as your sister - more so, to me - that I almost lost my head. I want nothing more than to let this romantic current sweep us along. — Julie Klassen

Make your life count, Henry David Weston. For when you reach the end of your days, you will not look back and wish you'd garnered more money, or power, or fame. You will look back and wish that you had been a better parent, spouse, friend, and Christian. And you will wish for just a little more time with those you love. — Julie Klassen

Please forgive me for the way I've treated her, Rachel prayed. Please help me repair the damage I've done. Help her to forgive me too. Oh merciful Father, help me not to be so full of myself that there is no room for anyone else. And worse, no room for you. — Julie Klassen

I have no longing for great wealth. For great adventure, yes, to travel widely and love deeply these things I value more than profits. Though certainly one needs enough of those to finance the former things. — Julie Klassen

Your aunt Jane is quite a remarkable woman. I've always liked her." "And she you." "The only Smallwood female to like me in those days, I'd wager. Then or since." "That's not true," Emma said; then she ducked her head, self-conscious. Henry looked at her cheeks, suddenly pink in her pale face, and felt unexpected pleasure warm his heart. Perhaps Emma did like him after all. — Julie Klassen

She also watched Miss Upchurch as she danced with Mr. Hudson. They bounded through the steps in lively abandon. Mr. Hudson's form was a bit ungainly, but he had never seemed so young and handsome as he did while dancing with Miss Upchurch. — Julie Klassen

Is she good company, able to laugh at herself, or a witty conversationalist? Has she any intelligence in her pretty head?'
'Yes, definitely. All of the above,' Abigail replied. 'And she has read Pride and Prejudice three times, Sense and Sensibility twice, and Mansfield Park only once.'
The woman's eyes glinted with wry humor. 'That is in her favor, indeed. I can tell you are an excellent judge of character, Miss Foster. — Julie Klassen

But as he reached the bottom of the stairs, a figure appeared in the shadowy passage below and scurried up the stairs past him. He froze. His mind flashed light and dark. His heart rate accelerated. The woman he had just passed - the voice had belonged to the new housemaid. But the face belonged to the woman who haunted his dreams. Margaret Macy. — Julie Klassen

Lewis appeared beside them, roguish grin on his handsome face. "Miss Macy, as I live and breathe! How I have longed to see you again. Do say you'll dance with me. Nate won't mind if I cut in. Will you, ol' boy?" Nathaniel felt the old stab of jealousy. He glanced from his brother's face - perfectly confident she would agree - to Margaret's. She looked at Lewis squarely and said, "Actually, I would prefer to dance with your brother." Lewis's mouth parted in disbelief. Heart lifting, Nathaniel whirled Margaret away from his stunned brother. It was likely the first time a woman had turned him down for anything. — Julie Klassen

Did you really think I might have drawn that picture?" Emma swallowed a self-conscious lump in her throat, then lifted her chin. "I own the notion did cross my mind. But can you blame me? After all, you knew what the piece looked like and you gave me prodigious cause to suspect you in the past." He inhaled deeply. "I suppose you are right. But that was a long time ago. I have no interest in tricking you now. Nor in frightening you, nor any other dishonorable motive, I assure you." The warm tenor of his voice did odd things to Emma's stomach. She blinked, unable to meet his gaze. "Emma, look at me." She forced herself to meet his remarkable green eyes and saw the sincerity burning there. He said, "You have my word, Emma. I did not do this." He had called her Emma. She liked the sound of her name on his lips. Nodding, she said, "I believe you. — Julie Klassen

What do you suppose it means, Hudson, when I dream of a beautiful blond lady and awaken to find a long blond hair in my bed?" Hudson chuckled. "My goodness, sir. What vivid dreams you must have!" "You have no idea. — Julie Klassen

I do hope to travel," he said. "But not alone." She swallowed. "Oh?" Henry pulled something from his coat pocket and unfolded it. "Here is my itinerary." He held the piece of paper toward her. "What do you think of it?" Emma accepted the single sheet and glanced at the list of Italian destinations - cities, churches, ruins, palazzos, and pensiones - preparing to offer some polite comment. Instead she stared. She turned to her aunt's desk, opened her notebook, and compared it to their own Italian itinerary - the one they'd had to discard. Except for the handwriting, the lists were identical. She glanced up at him, lips parted in astonishment. He stepped nearer. "I had hoped to travel with my wife, but she is, as yet, unavailable." Her neck heated. "Oh . . . why?" Henry dipped his chin and raised his brows. "Because she has yet to agree to marry me. — Julie Klassen

My father was a North Somerset fisherman. He always said if the apostles needed the Lord to tell them where to cast their nets, then he could do no better than to ask the Almighty for direction as well. — Julie Klassen