Klassen Quotes & Sayings

I found myself wondering, what would it be like to have a strange woman living in your home, nursing your child? My resulting research into the private lives of women in the 18th and 19th centuries inspired me and provided the backbone for [Lady of Milkweed Manor] novel. — Julie Klassen

room below and a bedchamber above. — 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

Growing up, you always dream of winning a gold medal. But coming into these Games, it wasn't something I was focused on. I'm just enjoying skating. This is the best season ever. I think that this year, my 3,000 meters has been stronger than the 1,500. The 1,500 has been anybody's race this year. When I was first, I still didn't know if that was enough. — Cindy Klassen

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

Still, she would not have married a man she knew full well did not love her, had there seemed any possible hope of a future with one who did. A man she had loved with every fragment of her broken heart. — 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

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

Flogging will continue until morale improves. — Julie Klassen

Faith-Defined beyond the confines of the mind. — Joshua 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

The Canadians have really stepped it up these Olympics. It looks very promising for Vancouver. — Cindy Klassen

I am honored to be selected as Canada's flag bearer for the closing ceremony of the 2006 Olympic Winter Games. Over the past 16 days we've had some outstanding performances by Canadian athletes and it is truly overwhelming to be selected as the flag bearer amidst the most successful Canadian Olympic Winter Games team ever. — Cindy 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

forward to feeling — Julie Klassen

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

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

Whereas the disparity between Henry and me is permanent?" She tucked her chin, regarding him in bemusement. "I never meant to suggest any such thing." Did Phillip feel inferior in some way to his elder brother? She could not credit it. He flicked a playful finger under her chin. "I should hope not. I always rather thought you preferred me to Henry." Emma's nerves crackled to life. She took a long breath and told herself to stop imagining references to that cursed letter. She swallowed and answered diplomatically, "You and I, being so close in age, naturally became friends. Henry and I did not." He gave her a crooked grin and tweaked her chin once more. "That's what I like to hear. — Julie Klassen

Nathaniel Upchurch. Margaret couldn't believe it. Gone were the pale features, the thin frame, the hesitant posture, the spectacles. Now broad shoulders strained against his cutaway coat. Form-fitting leather breeches outlined muscular legs. The unfashionable dark beard emphasized his sharp cheekbones and long nose. His skin was golden brown. His hair unruly, some escaping its queue. Even his voice sounded different - lower, harsher, yet still familiar. — Julie Klassen

We CREATORS are builders. We are dedicated to the idea of building a beautiful world so different and so superior to the present one that we CREATORS of this generation will go down in history as the revolutionaries who ushered in the Golden Age of Mankind. — Ben 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

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

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

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

The white race will either inhabit planet earth in totality, or it will not survive at all. There will be no in between in our future. — Ben 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're wrong, Miss Midwinter. Though I may not have approved of everything you've done, it wasn't because I didn't admire you, but because I did."
She looked up then, a tentative smile brightening her face. — Julie Klassen

I would never believe it of you, my boy, regardless of the schemers your mother and sister turned out to be. You may not be the most clever boy, nor the most prudent, nor the most gentlemanlike, nor ... "
Edward cleared his throat.
"Right! But you have a good heart, and I have every hope that with the proper education and mentoring you will be credit to the family yet. — Julie Klassen

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

You may be small in the attic, but you have a big heart. — 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

You do not esteem good deeds?" She shifted the basket handle to both hands, just as a cool breeze blew a bonnet string across her face.
"My dear Miss Keene, what would the world be without them?"
He brushed the string from her cheek. "Are we not admonished to be doers and not merely hearers of His word? Yet not on a mountain of good deeds can we climb our way to heaven. — Julie Klassen

My hope is that my novels reflect the reality of a world where good and evil exist, imperfect people make mistakes, but a perfect Heavenly Father offers forgiveness and second chances. — Julie Klassen

Do you recall the last time you and I danced? I am afraid I was rude to you." She ducked her head, embarrassed. "You didn't like being forced to dance with me then any more than now, I imagine." It was his turn to be taken aback. "Miss Smallwood, you are mistaken. I am very much enjoying dancing with you. I only hesitated because I thought you would prefer to dance with Phillip. — 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

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

CREATIVITY first of all aims to achieve a REVOLUTION OF VALUES THROUGH RELIGION, therefore it completely and categorically rejects the Judeo-Christian-democratic-Marxist-liberal-feminist values of today and supplants them with new and basic values of which RACE IS THE FOUNDATION. — Ben Klassen

What's put that secret smile on your face?" Phillip asked, a teasing light in his eyes. "Don't tell me Henry was actually pleasant company." "He was," Emma allowed. "Very knowledgeable." Julian said, "What did you do out there all that time - that's what I'd like to know." He leaned back in his chair and watched her face with a knowing smirk. "Lizzie said the two of you were alone out there for quite some time." "Oh?" Phillip asked, clearly surprised. "And what did you find to talk about with our laconic Henry?" "Greek mythology, mostly," Emma said casually, wanting to end any romance rumors before they might begin. "I found it very interesting." "You would," Rowan muttered. — Julie Klassen

I'm so proud of how well Canada did at the Games here. It think we're going to do even better in 2010. — Cindy 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

Dear Miss Smallwood, I thought it was time you received a real love letter. I am too shy to speak to you of my feelings in person, but I want you to know how pleased I am you are with us. You have an ardent admirer here at Ebbington Manor. I will be watching you. For I could gaze upon your soft green eyes and sweet lips forever. Your Secret Admirer — 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

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

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

Remember Who it is that has placed you in your present position; perhaps you have no home, perhaps you have experienced a reverse of fortune; no matter what! It is God who has willed it so, therefore look to Him for guidance and protection. - HINTS TO GOVERNESSES, BY ONE OF THEMSELVES, 1856 — Julie Klassen

I've won a medal, but that's nothing compared to the crown I'll get in Heaven. I see a lot of people in sports who think when they reach a certain level they've got it made, but really, you can only find happiness in the Lord. — Cindy Klassen

is a balm having your father here with us — 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

From time immemorial History has decreed that territory on this Planet Earth belongs to those powerful enough to take it and determined enough to keep it. — Ben 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

He punched me - right in the midst of the Valmores' ball." "He never!" "He did. Of course, I got my licks in too. Man has to stand up for himself, you know." "Oh, Lewie. Is that where that bruise came from? I was afraid you'd been breaking hearts again." "Only two or three a week." "Lewie . . ." Helen scolded fondly, "one of these days someone's father, or brother, or sweetheart will do worse than bruise you." "Then perhaps I ought to swear off women. After all, you are my favorite, Helen, and always shall be. — Julie Klassen

Beneath the ruled sheet lay another stiff rectangle of paper. This one was in Emma Smallwood's hand, written during his second year at Longstaple. It was a carefully-lettered notice which had once been tacked to her bedchamber door: BOYS, KEEP OUT And in smaller characters: Yes, Henry Weston, that means you. It gave him a chuckle even now, years later. She ought to have known a boy like him could not have resisted such a challenge. — Julie Klassen

You needn't play, Mr. Weston," Emma said. "I only agreed to play for Lizzie's sake, so . . ." "Oh, come, Miss Smallwood. Please tell me you don't shun all things athletic as you did as a girl." A teasing light shone in his eyes. "Afraid you'll lose?" Emma huffed. "I am not afraid to lose. I know I shall. This isn't chess, after all." One eyebrow rose. "Oh, ho! A shot to the heart. The lady recalls soundly trouncing me, I see. Then you must give me a chance to redeem myself." He set aside his hat and adopted a ready stance, bouncing lightly from foot to foot. He looked fifteen years old all over again. Emma felt a grin lift a corner of her mouth. "Oh, very well. But promise not to laugh too hard." "I promise. — Julie Klassen

And who is this pretty lady you're talking to, Nora?" the second footman, Craig, asked, all eagerness. "Do introduce me." Margaret grinned first at Joan, then Craig. "Miss Joan Hurdle, may I present Craig . . . I'm afraid I don't know your last name." "Craig is my last name! But we already had a Thomas, didn't we?" "Oh. Well then, may I present Mr. Thomas Craig." "How do you do?" Joan dipped her head. "A great deal better now you're here. Say you'll save a dance for me, Miss Joan, and I shall do better yet." Joan smiled. "Very well. — Julie Klassen

And what did you never get to do, Emma Smallwood?" he asked lightly, brushing the tears from her face. "Nothing that really matters, in hindsight." She shrugged. "Though I would have liked to travel. And perhaps encourage Aunt Jane to live her life. Live enough for the both of us." "No ordinary dreams? Of marriage, perhaps? A family?" She ducked her head. "Perhaps." Tears filled her eyes once more. He cupped her face in both of his hands and kissed her again. — Julie Klassen

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

So." He looked at her expectantly. "Shall we go?" Emma blinked. "Now?" "Did you not say you would like to see inside?" "Well . . . yes. If you are certain it is safe." "Perfectly safe." He extracted his pocket watch and glanced at it. "That is, for the next four hours. — 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

Was it so wrong to relish the feeling anyway? To enjoy the way it lingered, leaving her with a wistful awareness, a pleasant unease, as if she had forgotten to do something? Yes, it probably was wrong. But she did not wish it away. — Julie Klassen

These European White Men, then, with civilization in their blood and in their destiny, crossed the Atlantic and set up a new civilization on a bleak and rock bound coast. It was the White Men who drove north to Alaska and west to California; the men who opened up the tropics and subdued the Arctics; the men who mastered the African Veldts; the men who peopled Australia and seized the gates of the world at Suez, Gibraltar and Panama. — Ben Klassen

We all of us die, Miss Smallwood,' he interrupted. 'But we don't all of us make our lives count for something. How much better to die saving another soul than to stand safe on shore and do nothing while others perish? — Julie Klassen

Why does anyone write anything? To make known and to be known. — 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

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

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

It has been the White Race who has been the world builder, the maker of cities and commerce and continents. It is the White Man who is the sole builder of civilizations. It was he who build the Egyptian civilization, the great unsurpassed Roman civilization, the Greek civilization of beauty and culture, and who, after having been dealt a serious blow by a new Semitic religion, wallowed through the Dark Ages, finally extricated himself, and then build the great European civilization. — Ben Klassen

It was the White Man who spanned the continents of the world with railroads and super highways and electrical power lines. It was the White Man who created the miraculous world of electronics, ushering in the telephone, the radio and television. It was the White Race, who in a combined burst of energy and genius sent rockets to the moon and planted the feet of the White Man on extra-terrestrial territory in the last decade. — Ben 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

Chapman's profile came into view, though he — 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

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

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 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

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

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

Do you not pray, Miss Smallwood?'
She avoided his gaze. 'No.'
'God is speaking to you every day,' he said softly. 'You might return the favor.'
She raised her chin. 'I don't hear Him.'
'Do you listen?'
She looked at him, clearly offended, then turned away again. 'I used to pray, until I found God was not listening, at least not to my prayers.'
[He] heard the inner voice of caution but barreled ahead. 'He was listening. But He doesn't always answer the way we would like Him to. — Julie Klassen