Kleypas Books Quotes & Sayings

Until you transcend the ego, you can do nothing but add to the insanity of the world. — Wayne W. Dyer

Zen has lost its zip, if you will, or its nothingness and has become ritualistic Its established in monastaries with strict codes of koan study. — Frederick Lenz

It's nice to be playing a character who's never had a live-action version before. — Robbie Amell

The animal lacks both anxiety and hope because its consciousness is restricted to what is clearly evident and thus to the present moment: the animal is the present incarnate. — Arthur Schopenhauer

If he was looking for fancy embellishment, or obvious signs of wealth, he was to be disappointed. Amanda couldn't bear pretension or impracticality, and so she had chosen furniture for function rather than for style. If she bought a chair, it must be large and comfortable. If she bought a side table, it must be sturdy enough to hold a stack of books or a big lamp. She did not like gilding and porcelain disks, nor all the carving and hieroglyphics that were certainly fashionable. — Lisa Kleypas

You're not going to see any former suitors in Forest Crest, are you?"
An impish twinkle appeared in her eyes. "No, Mr. Morgan, I was never courted by any of the village lads."
"Why not? What in God's name is the matter with all of them?"
"I was never receptive to their advances," Victoria said, settling herself more comfortably on his lap. "I was absorbed in taking care of Father, and reading books, and..." Tenderly she laid her head on his shoulder. "I suppose I was waiting for you," she said, and felt his arms tighten until he nearly crushed her. — Lisa Kleypas

You're all Helen talks about. She's been reading Welsh history books and plaguing the family with accounts of Owain Glynd and something called the Eistedfodd." His eyes sparkled with friendly mockery. "Helen was hacking and spitting so much the other day that we thought she was coming down with a cold, until we realized she was practicing the Welsh alphabet."
Ordinarily Rhys would have made some sarcastic retort, but he'd barely noticed the gibe. His chest had gone tight with pleasure.
"She doesn't have to do that," he muttered.
"Helen wants to please you," Devon said. "It's her nature. Which leads to something I want to make clear: Helen is like a younger sister to me. And although I'm obviously the last man alive who should lecture anyone about propriety, I expect you to behave like an altar boy with her for the next few days."
Rhys gave him a surly glance. "I *was* an altar boy, and I can tell you that reports of their virtue are highly exaggerated. — Lisa Kleypas

The boy heaved a sigh. "I would ask to go with you," he said, " but I have to finish my lessons. I so look forward to the day when I know everything. Then I won't have to read any more books or do any more counting."
Beatrix smiled. "I don't wish to be discouraging, Rye, but it's not possible to know everything."
"Mama does." Rye paused reflectively. "At least, Papa says we mus t pretend she does, because it makes her happy."
"Your father," Beatrix informed him with a laugh, " is one of the wisest men I've ever known. — Lisa Kleypas

Nothing was ever easy or simple, not one blasted thing. — Jackie Merritt

I have always been an obsessive reader - I remember going back and forth to the local library with stacks of books taller than I was. — Lisa Kleypas

After the interview ended, Stone and I were ushered out. Alex had an interview with Ted Nugent to conduct. In the elevator, Stone scrutinized me. "When we try to assess threats," he said, "the kooks are almost always wearing snowsuits in 90-degree weather. — Jon Ronson

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

He approached her with great care. Sinking to his haunches, he contemplated her with immeasurable tenderness and concern. One of his big hands moved, shoving aside some of the books until the space between their bodies was clear. "It's me, love," he said softly. "Everything's all right. — Lisa Kleypas

A book had always been a door to another world ... a world much more interesting and fantastical than reality. But she had finally discovered that life could be even more wonderful than fantasy.
And that love could fill the real world with magic. — Lisa Kleypas

The door opened to reveal a room with walls consisting mostly of inset mahogany bookcases covered by leaded glass doors. Intricate plasterwork adorned the ceiling in a flowered medallion style that matched the thick Aubusson carpet on the floor.
"Are all of these books for sale?" Amanda asked in a hushed voice, feeling as if she had entered a king's treasure room.
Fretwell nodded. "You'll find everything from antiques to zoology. We have a wide selection of antique maps and celestial charts, original folios and manuscripts..." He gestured around them, as if the extensive rows of books were self-explanatory.
"I would love to lock myself in here for a week," she said impulsively. — Lisa Kleypas

Writing books about whores ... I'll bet you newer ... joined giblets wiv a man in your lily-white life.'
Dr. Hindley and Worthy began to reprove him, but Sara smiled quizzically. ' "Joined giblets?" ... I've never heard it put that way before. — Lisa Kleypas

Standing before the worn books and dusty shelves, she seemed like a ray of light in the windowless room. — Lisa Kleypas

I am so angry. And so happy to see him. — E. Lockhart

You want to be a passionate leader who makes decisions that are based on belief and principle over those that are based on feeling. — Jon Gordon

Why is Chelsea Clinton so ugly? Because her father is Janet Reno. — John McCain

You. Are. Mine. That's it, that's all there is to it. — Suzanne Wright

There seemed no way to make him understand an upbringing in which certain areas of the body were too shameful to be acknowledged, let alone touched, except for the purposes of washing. One of many rules instilled by a stout nanny who had been fond of smacking naughty children's palms with a ruler until they were red and sore. Such lessons could never be entirely unlearned. — Lisa Kleypas

Will she disapprove of me?" Helen asked.
Rhys tried to imagine what his mother would make of this subtle, incandescent creature with a mind full of books and music in her fingers.
"She'll think you're too pretty. And too soft. She doesn't understand your kind of strength. — Lisa Kleypas

I have nothing to offer you," he finally said in a guttural voice.
"Nothing."
Win's lips had turned dry. She moistened them, and tried to speak through a thrill of anxious trembling. "You have yourself," she whispered.
"You don't know me. You think you do, but you don't. The things I've done, the things I'm capable of
you and your family, all you know of life comes from books. If you understood anything
"
"Make me understand. Tell me what is so terrible that you must keep pushing me away."
He shook his head.
"Then stop torturing the both of us," she said unsteadily. "Leave me, or let me go."
"I can't," he snapped. "I can't, damn you." And before she could make a sound, he kissed her. — Lisa Kleypas

The city was under the rule of sourcery ... martial lore. — Terry Pratchett

A poor man needs the escape far more than a wealthy man does."
"Escape," Amanda repeated, having never heard a book described in such a way.
"Yes, something to transport your mind from where and who and what you are. Everyone needs that. A time or two in my past, it seemed that a book was the only thing that stood between me and near insanity. I-"
He stopped suddenly, and Amanda realized that he had not meant to make such a confession. The room became uncomfortably quiet, with only the jaunty snap of the fire to intrude on the silence. Amanda felt as if the air were throbbing with some unexpressed emotion. She wanted to tell him that she understood exactly what he meant, that she, too, had experienced the utter deliverance that words on a page could provide. There had been times of desolation in her own life, and books had been her only pleasure. — Lisa Kleypas

How careful she always was with books: they had been her companions, her entertainment, and her only window to the outside world. — Lisa Kleypas

End of Winter"

Over the still world, a bird calls
waking solitary among black boughs.

You wanted to be born; I let you be born.
When has my grief ever gotten
in the way of your pleasure?

Plunging ahead
into the dark and light at the same time
eager for sensation

as though you were some new thing, wanting
to express yourselves

all brilliance, all vivacity
never thinking
this would cost you anything,
never imagining the sound of my voice
as anything but part of you -

you won't hear it in the other world,
not clearly again,
not in birdcall or human cry,

not the clear sound, only
persistent echoing
in all sound that means good-bye, good-bye -

the one continuous line
that binds us to each other. — Louise Gluck

Thanks to the internet, you can provoke thoughts of those in mansions, from the uncomfortableness of your shack. — Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Books were everywhere, lined neatly on shelves that went from floor to ceiling. The ceiling was two stories high, with an upper balcony that provided access to a second-floor gallery. The dazzling array f red, gold, green, and brown bindings was a feast for the eyes, while the wonderful smells of vellum, parchment, and pungent leather almost caused Amanda to salivate. An exquisite waft of tea leaves lingered in the air. For anyone who enjoyed the pursuit of reading, this place surely was paradise. — Lisa Kleypas

Rohan, one of us is an unmarried man with superior mathematical abilities and no prospects for the evening. The other is a confirmed lecher in an amorous mood, with a willing and nubile young wife waiting at home. Who do you think should do the damned account books? And, with a nonchalant wave, St. Vincent had left the office. — Lisa Kleypas

Infosys is an absolute meritocracy. Even in a meritocracy, other things being equal, you have to give opportunity to the more experienced candidate. — N. R. Narayana Murthy

Reflecting on these complex relationships between reader and story, fiction and life, can constitute a form of therapy against the sleep of reason, which generates monsters. — Umberto Eco