Daisy And Matthew Quotes & Sayings

Daisy glanced up into her husband's sparkling eyes. "You're being scandalous, Mr. Swift," she whispered. "This is nothing," Matthew replied in an undertone, his expression soft with love. "I'm saving my worst behavior for tonight. — Lisa Kleypas

My God, how I want you," he whispered. — Lisa Kleypas

Matthew turned as he became aware of someone approaching from behind. It was the pair of constables, looking disgruntled. "It's procedure for lawbreakers to wear 'and cuffs while they're being transported to Bow Street," one of them said. He gave Daisy an accusing glance. "Pardon, miss, but what did you do with the cuffs that was removed from Mr. Phelan?"
Daisy looked back at him innocently. "I gave them to a maidservant. I'm afraid she's very forgetful. She probably misplaced them."
"Where should we start looking?" the officer asked with a puff of impatience.
Her expression did not change as she replied, "I would suggest a thorough search of all the chamberpots. — Lisa Kleypas

Her nerves, sated as they were, stirred beneath the caress of his fingertips. "Matthew ... what will happen next? Will you speak to my father?"
"Not yet. In the interest of preserving at least a semblance of decorum, I'm going to wait until I return from Bristol. By that time most of the guests will have left, and the family will be able to deal with the situation in relative privacy."
"My father will be overjoyed. But Mother will have conniptions. And Lillian ... "
"Will explode."
Daisy sighed. "My brothers aren't too fond of you, either."
"Really," he said in mock surprise. — Lisa Kleypas

Now as they made their way through the exuberantly crowded village, Daisy understood what Westcliff had meant. It was still early evening, and already it appeared that copiously flowing wine had loosened inhibitions. People were embracing, arguing, laughing and playing. Some were laying floral wreaths at the base of the oldest oak trees, or pouring wine at the roots, or ...
"Good Lord," Daisy said, her attention caught by a perplexing sight in the distance, "what are they doing to that poor tree?"
Matthew's hands clasped her head and firmly aimed her face in another direction. "Don't look."
"Was it some form of tree-worship or - "
"Let's go watch the rope-dancers," he said with sudden enthusiasm, guiding her to the other side of the green. — Lisa Kleypas

Daisy, you're too damned innocent to understand the danger you're in. It's taking all the self-control I've got to keep my hands off you. Don't play games with me, sweetheart. It's too easy for you to torture me, and I'm at my limit. — Lisa Kleypas

Daisy doesn't even go to his funeral, Nick and Jordan part ways, and Daisy ends up sticking with racist Tom ... you can tell Fitzgerald never took the time to look up at clouds during sunset, because there's no silver lining at the end of that book, let me tell you.
I do see why Nikki likes the novel, as it's written so well. But her liking it makes me worry now that Nikki really doesn't believe in silver linings, because she says The Great Gatsby is the greatest novel ever written by an American, and yet it ends so sadly. One thing's for sure, Nikki is going to be very proud of me when I tell her I finally read her favorite book. -Silver Linings Playbook, p. 9 — Matthew Quick

I want to be part of you," he whispered. "I want forever with you. — Lisa Kleypas

He had always wanted Daisy, with an intensity that seemed to radiate from the pores of his skin. She was sweet, kind, inventive, excessively reasonable yet absurdly romantic, her dark sparkling eyes filled with dreams. She had occasional moments of clumsiness when her mind was too occupied with her thoughts to focus on what she was doing. She was often late to supper because she had gotten too involved in her reading. She frequently lost thimbles and slippers and pencil stubs. And she loved to stargaze. The never-forgotten sight of Daisy leaning wistfully on a balcony railing one night, her pert profile lifted to the night sky, had charged Matthew with the most blistering desire to stride over to her and kiss her senseless. — Lisa Kleypas

Please be real," she gasped. "Please don't be a dream." "I'm real," Matthew said huskily. "Don't cry so hard, there's no - oh, Daisy, love - " He gripped her head in his hands and pressed comforting words against her lips while she struggled to get even closer to him. He eased her to the floor, using the reassuring weight of his body to subdue her. — Lisa Kleypas

Books are expensive. So are nice houses with gardens. Has it occurred to you that someone has to pay for your peaceful life? — Lisa Kleypas

Some things are better when it's raining. Like reading. Or sleeping. Or this."
"Lying in bed with me? — Lisa Kleypas

Daisy," he whispered, turning until she was tucked beneath him once more. "I didn't mean for this to happen." His fingers investigated the fragile angles of her face, the smiling curve of her lips. "But now it seems impossible that I held out as long as I did. — Lisa Kleypas

When the two men finally appeared in the dining hall after having washed and changed from the journey, Daisy's heart pounded too fast to allow for a full breath.
Matthew's glance swept the company at large, and he bowed as Westcliff did. Both of them appeared collected and remarkably fresh. One would think they had been absent for seven minutes instead of seven days.
Before going to his place at the head of the table, Westcliff went to Lillian. Since the earl was never given to public demonstrations, it astonished everyone, including Lillian, when he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. She flushed and said something about the vicar being there, making Westcliff laugh. — Lisa Kleypas

I've tried so hard to stay away from you," he whispered one night, cuddling her while the moonlight made stripes across the shadowed hills of the bedclothes.
"Why?" Daisy whispered back, crawling over him until she was draped over the muscled surface of his chest.
He played with the dark cascade of her hair. "Because I shouldn't come to you like this until we're married. There's a risk - "
Daisy silenced him with her mouth, not stopping until his breath had hastened and his bare skin was as hot as a stove-plate beneath her. She lifted her head to smile down into his gleaming eyes. "All or nothing," she murmured. "That's how I want you. — Lisa Kleypas

I have to leave," he whispered against her hair.
"No, stay." Her face turned, her lips nuzzling the bare skin of his chest. "Stay all night. Stay forever."
He smiled and kissed her temple. "I would. But somehow I think your family would take exception to my debauching you before we were properly betrothed."
"I don't feel debauched."
"I do," Matthew said.
Daisy smiled. "I'd better marry you, then. — Lisa Kleypas

No," Lillian said frankly. "But much as I hate to admit it, that puts us in a minority. Swift is liked by everyone in the northern hemisphere, including Westcliff and his friends, my friends, the servants, the neighbors - "
"You are exaggerating - "
" - children, animals and the higher order of plants," Lillian finished sardonically. "If root vegetables could talk, I've no doubt they would say they like him, too."
Daisy, who was sitting by the window with a book, looked up with a sudden grin. "His charm doesn't extend to poultry," she said. "He has a problem with geese." Her smile turned quizzical. "Thank you for being so accommodating, Lillian. I expected you to make a fuss about the betrothal. — Lisa Kleypas

Oh, Evie ... " Daisy kicked morosely at a pebble. "I have the most horrible suspicion that Matthew Swift might actually be everything I ever wanted in a man. — Lisa Kleypas

He traced the line of her collarbone, and the side of her throat. "Did I hurt you, Daisy?" he whispered.
"Well, it was rather uncomfortable when you - " she stopped and blushed. "But I expected that. My friends told me it improves after the first time."
His fingertips wandered to the outline of her ear, and the blood-heated curve of her cheek. There was a smile in his voice as he said, "I'll do my best to see that it does. — Lisa Kleypas

Her nerves crackled with expectant heat as he reached for the sketchbook in her hand.
Without thinking, she let him take it.
His eyes narrowed as he looked down at the book, which was open to her sketch of Llandrindon. "Why did you draw him with a beard?" he asked.
"That's not a beard," Daisy said shortly. "It's shadowing."
"It looks as if he hasn't shaved in three months."
"I didn't ask for your opinion on my artwork," she snapped. She grabbed the sketchbook, but he refused to release it. "Let go," she demanded, tugging with all her might, "or I'll ... "
"You'll what? Draw a portrait of me?" He released the book with a suddenness that caused her to stumble back a few steps. He held up his hands defensively. "No. Anything but that."
Daisy rushed at him and whacked his chest with the book. — Lisa Kleypas

It's me, love," he said softly. "Everything's all right."
Daisy managed to whisper through dry lips. "If you're a ghost ... I hope you haunt me forever."
Matthew sat on the floor and reached for her cold hands. "Would a ghost use the door?" he asked gently, bringing her fingers to his scratched, battered face. — Lisa Kleypas

Do you like that?" he whispered.
"Yes, I ... " She fought to speak between helpless gasps. "I thought ... it was going to hurt."
"Not from this." A smile touched his mouth. "Later, however, you might have cause for complaint." A shimmer of sweat gathered on his face as he felt the pulsing of her body around his exploring finger. "I don't know if I can be gentle," he said raggedly. "I've wanted you for too long."
"I trust you," she whispered.
Matthew shook his head, easing his hand away from her. "You have terrible judgment. You're in bed with the last man in the world you should trust, and you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life."
"Is this your idea of seductive banter?"
"I thought I should give you one last warning. Now you're doomed."
"Oh, good." Daisy moved to help him as he stripped off her drawers and stockings. — Lisa Kleypas

You and I will converse while Hunt has a cigar," Westcliff informed him. "Come with us."
The "invitation" didn't seem to allow the possibility of a refusal, but Matthew tried nonetheless. "Thank you, my lord, but there is a certain matter I wish to discuss with someone, and I - "
"That someone would be Mr. Bowman, I expect."
Hell, Matthew thought. He knows. Even if it hadn't been for those words, he could tell by the way Westcliff was looking at him.
Westcliff knew about Bowman's intention of marrying him off to Daisy ... and not surprisingly, Westcliff had an opinion about it.
"You will discuss the matter with me first," the earl continued.
Matthew glanced warily at Simon Hunt, who gave him a bland look in return. "I'm certain," Matthew said, "that Mr. Hunt doesn't want to be bored by a discussion of someone else's personal affairs - "
"Not at all," Hunt said cheerfully. "I love hearing about other people's affairs. Particularly when they're personal. — Lisa Kleypas

Walking with Daisy from the dining hall, Matthew murmured, "Will I have to scale the outside wall tonight, or are you going to leave your door unlocked?"
"The door," Daisy replied succinctly.
"Thank God. — Lisa Kleypas

Why didn't the others help you?" Daisy asked angrily, scrubbing the sleeve of her gown over her dripping face.
"They were busy saving their own skins. Although," Matthew added ruefully, "I would have thought I merited a little more importance than the horses. — Lisa Kleypas

Daisy pulled away from Swift's grasp. "You've changed," she said, trying to collect herself.
"You haven't," he replied.
It was impossible to tell whether the remark was intended as compliment or criticism.
"What were you doing at the well?"
"I was ... I thought ... " Daisy searched in vain for a sensible explanation, but could think of nothing. "It's a wishing well."
His expression was solemn, but there was a suspicious flicker in his vivid blue eyes as if he were secretly amused. "You have this on good authority, I take it?"
"Everyone in the local village visits it," Daisy replied testily. "It's a legendary wishing well."
He was staring at her the way she had always hated, absorbing everything, no detail escaping his notice. Daisy felt her cheeks turn blood-hot beneath his scrutiny.
"What did you wish for?" he asked.
"That's private."
"Knowing you," he said, "it could be anything. — Lisa Kleypas

She had made Matthew want to smile. With her luminous skin, her exotic cinnamon-colored eyes and quicksilver expressions, Daisy Bowman seemed to have come from an enchanted forest populated with mythical creatures. — Lisa Kleypas

No sugarcoating would be necessary," Matthew interrupted calmly. "Daisy ... that is, Miss Bowman, is entirely - " Beautiful. Desirable. Bewitching. " - acceptable. Marrying a woman like Miss Bowman would be a reward in itself. — Lisa Kleypas

I'm going to Bristol," Matthew said desperately. "I'll reschedule the meetings. I won't do anything without your leave. But at least I can gather information - interview the local transport firm, have a look at their horses - "
"Swift," the earl interrupted. Something in his quiet tone, a note of ... kindness? ... sympathy? ... caused Matthew to stiffen defensively. "I understand the reason for your urgency - "
"No, you don't."
"I understand more than you might think. And in my experience, these problems can't be solved by avoidance. You can never run far or fast enough."
Matthew froze, staring at Westcliff. The earl could have been referring either to Daisy, or to Matthew's tarnished past. In either case he was probably right.
Not that it changed anything.
"Sometimes running is the only choice," Matthew replied gruffly, and left the room without looking back. — Lisa Kleypas

Witnessing Matthew's limitless energy and his growing list of accomplishments, Simon Hunt had informed him decisively that any time he tired of working for Bowman's, he was welcome to come to Consolidated Locomotive. That had prompted Thomas Bowman to offer Matthew a higher percentage of the soap company's future profits.
"I'll be a millionaire by the time I'm thirty," Matthew had told Daisy dryly, "if I can just manage to stay out of jail. — Lisa Kleypas

Matthew. I'm here. I'm yours. I want to do everything you've ever imagined doing with me. — Lisa Kleypas

I don't have any mottoes. If I did I would forever be contradicting them. — Lisa Kleypas

With Matthew at her side, Daisy browsed the row of wooden stalls that had been erected along High Street, filled with fabrics, toys, millinery, silver jewelry, and glassware. She was determined to see and do as much as possible in a short time, for Westcliff had strongly advised them to return to the manor well before midnight.
"The later the hour, the more unrestrained the merrymaking tends to become," the earl had said meaningfully. "Under the influence of wine - and behind the concealment of masks - people tend to do things they would never think of doing in the light of day."
"Oh, what's a little fertility ritual here or there?" Daisy had scoffed cheerfully. "I'm not so innocent that I - "
"We'll be back early," Matthew had told the earl. — Lisa Kleypas

When I read the actual story-how Gatsby loves Daisy so much but can't ever be with her no matter how hard he tries-I feel like ripping the book in half and calling up Fitzgerald and telling him his book is all wrong, even though I know Fitzgerald is probably deceased. Especially when Gatsby is shot dead in his swimming pool the first time he goes for a swim all summer, Daisy doesn't even go to his funeral, Nick and Jordan part ways, and Daisy ends up sticking with racist Tom, whose need for sex basically murders an innocent woman, you can tell Fitzgerald never took the time to look up at clouds during sunset, because there's no silver lining at the end of that book, let me tell you. — Matthew Quick

I want to know what your five-dollar wish was for."
"Is that all?" He smiled beneath her exploring fingertips. "I wished you would find someone who wanted you as much as I did. But I knew it wouldn't come true."
The candlelight slid over Daisy's delicate features as she raised her head to look at him. "Why not?"
"Because I knew no one could ever want you as much as I do."
Daisy levered herself farther over him until her hair tumbled in a dark curtain around them both.
"What was your wish?" Matthew asked, combing his fingers through the fall of shimmering hair.
"That I could find the right man to marry." Her tender smile stopped his heart. "And then you appeared. — Lisa Kleypas

All this effort for a man who doesn't even care," Daisy muttered to herself, thinking dire thoughts about Matthew Swift.
Llandrindon sat a few yards away on the rim of a garden fountain, obediently holding still as she sketched his portrait. She had never been particularly talented at sketching, but she was running out of things to do with him.
"What was that?" the Scottish lord called out.
"I said you have a fine head of hair! — Lisa Kleypas