Laura Kinsale Quotes & Sayings

If you're not a criminal, then what are you doing stealing all these swords and things?" For a moment he was silent. Then he rubbed his chin and said, "There's no name for it in English." "Oh, is there not? 'Burglary' seems descriptive enough." "Kyojitsu." He looked levelly into her eyes, not wavering. "False-true. — Laura Kinsale

He lifted his eyes. They were the color of the deepest heart of hurricane clouds, deeper blue than the sky behind him. — Laura Kinsale

For God's sake. Don't build a wall to keep me outside."
"I won't build one," she whispered. "I am the wall. — Laura Kinsale

Was that what she meant? Why she cried? Because he was an animal afraid to leave its cage, no words to say what he thought, no thoughts but muddled mad stupid thoughts? — Laura Kinsale

The flame in her was slow and deep-he was going to incite it with the fire in himself; he was going to make a blaze to burn down cities, to lay waste cathedrals and castles and plain meetinghouses-to make a world where it was only him, and only her, and this bed, and one flesh. — Laura Kinsale

He plucked at a long rose cane that attempted to grab his sleeve as he passed through the gate. "Good morning, my lady. May I give you my arm up the street? I'm engaged to escort this rosebush to the shops, but I'll fob it off. — Laura Kinsale

It was high time that she left behind these silly daydreams, before she became odd and ended up locked in some attic, collecting bits of string and candle wax and muttering. — Laura Kinsale

The baby closed its mouth, staring at him with hope and small hiccups.
"Jesus," he said. He lay down on the bed, pulling the pillow under his head, and drew the whole bundle of coat, shawl and infant up against his shirt. A tiny hand closed tight on the lace. One sob erupted, and then changed midbreath to a soft sigh.
Women, he thought sardonically, sinking in the bedclothes, with sleep revolving and closing in his head. He moved one finger, feeling a cheek as soft as down.
What's your name?
Ask the girl. Remember that ...
Maddy ...
It was wrong. I must leave thee now.
Don't cry. Don't cry, little girl ... I'm so tired. I never deserved you, did I? Maddy ... but I loved you.
I always loved you. — Laura Kinsale

My books are mine, and yet they are alien to me
as a child belongs to a parent and yet has a life of its own. I can guide and hope and nudge my characters this and that way, but in the end, they become what they become. I don't always like what they become myself, but like a parent, there are times when I just don't know what to do about it. Other times when I'm so proud of them I could bust. — Laura Kinsale

You deserve it," she hissed. "You deserve it, do you hear me? — Laura Kinsale

Love!" She threw the pillow aside and sat up, pulling the be clothes around her. "You hypocrite. 'Tis nothing to you to say that, is it? You prate about love and roses and devotion, but you don't know the meaning of the word. You never have, and I doubt you ever will."
He let out a harsh breath. "I don't understand you. How you can say that, after - " He spread his hands and made a baffled sound. "After this."
"This! This is fancy, 'tis infatuation, 'tis a dream. Maybe you love your horses, maybe you love Nemo - all you require of me is a reflection of yourself. You and your bloody mask!" She was crying openly now, her head tilted back, her eyes shut against the tears. "Don't keep trying to dress it up as love, because I know what love is, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. — Laura Kinsale

What a joy Mary Jo Putney is to read; she can't write fast enough for me. — Laura Kinsale

Just - let me hold you. That's all. Hold you and go to sleep." He smoothed his thumbs over the back of her hands. "You can tell me everything about tableware."
She was silent a moment, gazing down at their hands. Then she said, "Would you like to know about holloware or flatware?"
"Flatware. Naturally, flatware."
"I shall certainly put you to sleep with that. I venture to say you'll be snoring by the time I get to the runcible spoon."
"My God. Do I snore?"
"You were decidedly snoring last night, as I was enlightening you upon the nature and arrangement of sideboards. I'm rather a connoisseur of sideboards, but I suppose not everyone enters into my own enthusiasm. Kindly refrain from swearing, if you please."
"I beg your pardon." He kissed her nose... — Laura Kinsale

But no monk am I in my head, God grant me pardon," he whispered. His body drew closer, velvet and taut elegance. "My confessor has chastised me oft, and bade me study on my sins at length. And so, lady"--he kissed her, the hunger in it sinking down through her like a comet falling--"I have studied. — Laura Kinsale

Dost though even know what would become of me? Thou dost not." She exhaled sharply. "Friends would disown me. It is our way. I would be alone!"

"No," he said unexpectedly. He turned and held his hand to her, palm upward, empty, a simple masculine offering. "Maddygirl. With...me. — Laura Kinsale

Zenia," he said, "I'm not good at it - tea and cakes. I have no patience with it."
She looked directly at him. "I suppose you would prefer to eat on the ground with your fingers?" Her dry remark seemed to take him aback. He looked at her with a faint frown. "Shall I sprinkle some sand on the butter," she asked, "to put you more at ease?"
He tilted up one corner of his mouth. "No." He lifted his cup, extending his little finger with an exaggerated delicacy. "I can play, if I must. How does your dear aunt do, Lady Winter? I hear she has the vapors once an hour. I have a receipt for a rhubarb plaster - most efficacious! Of course, if you prefer a more permanent cure, nothing can surpass a fatal dose of arsenic. — Laura Kinsale

The flowers were opulent, full-blown, topple shower petals at a touch. He thought that she might topple that way, falling all at once into his hand, a soft drift of blossom between his fingers. The roses bowed their extravagant heads, nodding, but she was all stiff prim and black, back in her bonnet, so that he could not see her face unless she looked directly at him. — Laura Kinsale

He put his fist against his chest. "Burn, Maddygirl," he said. Then he turned and left her in the flickering gloom and thunder. — Laura Kinsale

Right here, you're killing me. — Laura Kinsale

It had not seemed difficult, on a small income, to know what was right to do ... Now, with so much, it was daily a decision: what was necessary, what was frivolous ... It was so much gray
so little black and white; for a year she'd spent more of her time questioning herself and how she lived in Truth than she had done altogether in her life. — Laura Kinsale

I think,' Olympia said slowly, 'that I know you quite well.' She looked down at the deck and added in a carefully mild voice, 'You can be a scoundrel; I know that. You stole from me and betrayed me and lied to me. You have no morals and no ideals; you think of yourself first and you're a coward sometimes on that account.' She hesitated, chewing her lip. 'What people call a coward, anyway. I don't know what cowardice is anymore. I don't know what heroism is.' She looked up. 'But I know one thing, and I learned it from you. I know what courage means. It means to pick up and go on, no matter what. It means having a heart of iron, like they say. You have that. — Laura Kinsale

Its been six weeks," he murmured. "Six weeks I've wanted you. I know how you move, and how the sunlight makes a shadow on the curve of your cheek, and the shape of your ear." He chucked harshly then turned his head on the pillow to look at her. "I'm dying," he said. He dropped his fist against his chest. "Right here, you're killing me. — Laura Kinsale

My God." He pushed away from the bedpost. "Friends! And do you fall into bed with any man who's 'dear' to you? How am I to take that?"
"Of course I don't." She stood up, letting the knotted scarf slip away. "I can't seem to help myself. With you. About that. It's extremely vexing."
"You're quite right on that count," he said sullenly. "I'm damned vexed. I'd like to vex you right here on the floor, in fact. And the idea of Sturgeon vexing you is enough to dispose me to murder. Is that clear? Do you comprehend me?" He took a reckless stride toward her and caught her chin between his fingers. "I'm not your friend, my lady. I'm your lover. — Laura Kinsale

She's certain that I intend to lure Lilly into the debauched harem that I maintain in the opium dens of Paris." He turned her toward the lane. "Be so good as to thwart me from this evil scheme. You can begin by distracting me with a walk to the post office."
She smiled, though it was slightly watery. "I see that it's my Christian duty, when you put it so. I only hope I may not succumb to your wicked plot myself."
"Oh, I have far more sinister plans for you. I mean to entice you to a dish of tea in the public parlor at the Antlers. I will certainly set a chair for you, and possibly I may even speak French. — Laura Kinsale

The chilly mist settled down around them, sinking like midnight into his bones. His arm hurt, and his heart felt like an open wound in his chest. — Laura Kinsale

"There was no public to humiliate him here. They already knew he was a lunatic. They expected it. He could burst into howls of insanity, and they would only smile those gentle smiles at him and wrestle him into the chains." — Laura Kinsale

It was quite settled by now. She was born to be a spinster. — Laura Kinsale

He came down the nave, walking with his graceful stride, dangerous and tear-stained. — Laura Kinsale

Her heart and breath felt as if they had deserted her, declaring they were off to join the navy and might come back to visit in a few years if she were lucky. — Laura Kinsale

To try to let go was to hold more tightly. — Laura Kinsale

I want to see your stockings," he growled. "The plain white ones."
Her lips parted, as if to make a refusal, and then she blinked. Her puzzled look only made her more adorable to him.
"Yes, I was driven demented in your closet." He bent down to kiss her. "I'm passionately in love with your hosiery. — Laura Kinsale

I hope," she said, "that you didn't stay out of some foolish romantical notion."
He looked down, staring at the tumbled bedclothes. "Such as?"
"Saving my life."
He looked up again with a grimace. "Naturally not. I usually throw my houseguests off the cliff. — Laura Kinsale

"The duke stopped beside Maddy's chair. He turned to Mr. Pember and in the sort of tone that could command regiments, uttered. "Cat." — Laura Kinsale

Then you came and I started to feel again. I started to think there was a reason I survived, that you were my reason. But nothing's so simple, is it? I didn't protect you. Here you are hurting so bad, and I can't even help. I'm just here and I need you. That's all it comes to. I need you to be brave when I haven't been. I know how hard it is. Look at me. Look at what's happened to me. Jesus, I feel like I'll be crying for the next century." He bent his head, pressed his tear-wet cheek to her dry cold skin. "But I'm here. I'm not hiding anymore. Princess, I'm asking you. Come back to me. You're my life. — Laura Kinsale

He felt her draw a little shuddering breath, and then a wet tumble of water on her cheek. She whispered, "God forgive, Jervaulx - that I sh'dovethee."

That I should love thee.
It broke the spell that held him. Had she said that? He pushed back, gazing at her. — Laura Kinsale

At the corner he turned, looking back up at her. She put her palm to the glass. — Laura Kinsale

She hadn't ascribed to this modern notion of equality between the sexes. Woman were patently superior. — Laura Kinsale

As he observed her in musing silence, a novel thought occurred to him. It slipped through his mind so subtly that it seemed to mingle like smoke with his physical perceptions, with the way the dim light through the stained-glass window fell across her hair in little iridescent rainbows, and the scent of old tobacco and dust lingered in the room. He wondered - absurdly - if this was what she had come for - simply to sit in the stillness and be alive and share it with him.
Something inside, something tiny he hadn't even known was there, seemed to unfold, to spread tentative petals open like a desert flower sensing rain.
She turned and looked up at him, her great unblinking eyes full of forest wisdom. He thought foolishly: Let me stay here. I need this. — Laura Kinsale

Do you make a study of pigs, Monsieur?" she asked, with a muffled note of amusement.
"Of course. I've observed them frequently on my breakfast plate." They had neared the first of the pens, where a stockman was lovingly bathing the ears of an enormously fat spotted sow. Five piglets squealed and gurgled about her panting bulk. "Note the marvelous coil of the tail." He gestured with his cane. "Absolute perfection!"
"And those ears," Callie said, nodding sagely. "She appears to have two!"
"Four legs," Trev added, cataloging all her points.
"Are you certain she has legs?" Callie asked dubiously. "I don't see any."
"They are hidden under her porcine vastness," he informed her. He tilted his head speculatively as they reached the pen. "Unless she has wheels. Perhaps she rolls from place to place? — Laura Kinsale

He liked radical politics and had a fondness for chocolate. — Laura Kinsale