Maclean Quotes & Sayings

One of life's quiet excitements is to stand somewhat apart from yourself and watch yourself softly becoming the author of something beautiful even if it is only a floating ash. — Norman Maclean

The nearest anyone can come to finding himself at any given age is to find a story that somehow tells him about himself. — Norman Maclean

I should have listened to Hunslett. Again I should have listened to Hunslett. And again for Hunslett's sake. But I didn't know then that Hunslett was to have time for all the sleep in the world. — Alistair MacLean

Love. The stuff of sonnets and madrigals and fairy tales and novels.
Love. The elusive emotion that made men weep and sing and ache with desire and passion.
Love. The life-altering feeling that made everything bright and warm and wonderful. The emotion all the world was desperate to discover. — Sarah MacLean

I am happy to pay you," she announced. "For your services."
A harsh, strangled sound cut through the room. It came from him. "Pay me."
She nodded. "Would say, twenty-five pounds do?"
"No."
Her brows knit together. "Of course, a person of your
prowess
is worth more. I apologize for the offense. Fifty? I'm afraid I can't go much higher. It's quite a bit of money. — Sarah MacLean

Dear Jesse, as the moon lingers a moment over the bitterroots, before its descent into the invisible, my mind is filled with song. I find I am humming softly; not to the music, but something else; some place else; a place remembered; a field of grass where no one seemed to have been; except a deer; and the memory is strengthened by the feeling of you, dancing in my awkward arms. — Norman Maclean

I am haunted by waters. — Norman Maclean

I never meant to hurt you, Isabel. Had I known what I would find when I came north, I would never have agreed to Leighton's request ... That is a lie. Had I known that I would find you when I came north, I would have come years ago. — Sarah MacLean

So all we know about Hugh MacLean is that his financial situation is unclear, he has an unknown number of illegitimate children, and the family curse is true. I've caught quiet a prize! — Karen Hawkins

The best romance writers know there's nothing that builds conflict or makes a gentleman of a rogue more quickly than responsibility. — Sarah MacLean

Sad was such a simple, damaging word. It meant so much more than its elaborate cousins. — Sarah MacLean

He paused, then looked up at her. "It hurts, did you know that? Growing." She shook her head. "How?" That smile again, the one that made her want to hold him until they were old. "Physically. You ache. Like your bones cannot keep up with themselves. But now that you ask, I suppose it hurts in every other way, as well - there's a keen sense that where you have been is no longer where you are. And certainly nothing like where you are going." He stopped, then whispered, "Nothing like where I was going." "Alec - — Sarah MacLean

Perhaps you should exhibit some of the character you are showing this evening in a more public forum," he said. "I'll admit you seem far more intriguing than I have ever given you credit for, my lady, and intrigue is the spark of desire. — Sarah MacLean

To be honest, I thought it was similar to animal husbandry."
Sally's tone turned dry. "Sometimes, my lady I'm afraid it isn't that different."
Pippa paused, considering the ords. "Is that so?"
"Men are uncomplicated, generally," Sally said, all too sage. "They're beasts when they want to be."
"Brute ones!"
"Ah, so you understand."
Pippa tilted her head to one side. "I've read about them."
Sally nodded. "Erotic texts?"
"The book of Common Prayer ... — Sarah MacLean

When exhausted and feeling sorry for yourself, at least change your socks. — Norman Maclean

No doubt, much of the joy of a great romance is the moment when these stoic heroes crack open and reveal themselves to their heroines - the only women strong enough to match them. — Sarah MacLean

I am not a novelist, I'm a storyteller. There is no art in what I do. No mystique. — Alistair MacLean

I wouldn't believe you." "Why not?" "Because any man who has exclusive access to you would not be able to go a day without touching you. — Sarah MacLean

A woman of battle cannot take the same risks as a woman of the fields or a woman of the town. One may not strap a baby basket to one's back along with one's swords and ride off to battle.
Renda of Brannagh, — Jordan MacLean

Callie was ruing the moment that afternoon when she had suggested a small, intimate dinner. Tonight, even the ancestors watching from the portraits lining the sitting-room walls seemed to be mocking her. — Sarah MacLean

He kissed her soundly, stealing her breath, before saying, "Tell me what you want, my lovely."
"I-" She stopped, too many words coming at once. 'I want you to touch me. I want you to love me. I want you to show me the life that I have been missing.' She shook her head, uncertain.
He smiled, pressing firmly with his hand against her, watching the wave of pleasure course through her. "Incredible," he whispered against the side of her neck. "So responsive. Go on..."
"I want-" She sighed as he set his lips to the hardened peak of one breast again. "I want... I want you," she said, and, in that moment, the words, so utterly simple in the face of the roiling emotions that coursed through her, seemed enough.
He moved his fingers firmly, deftly against her, and she gasped. "Do you want me here, Empress?"
She closed her eyes in embarrassment, biting her lower lip.
"Are you aching for me here?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Poor, sweet love. — Sarah MacLean

I do, love. I want you more than you could ever know. More than I could have ever dreamed. I want you enough for two men. For ten. — Sarah MacLean

John [Lennon] as a singer - the way he sings on "Twist and Shout" and the way he sings on "Strawberry Fields Forever" - is a very odd voice, in the sense that it seems to be celebrating but almost mourning at the same time. There's a quality of mourning to his voice, which is very enigmatic. — Alasdair MacLean

Gone are the days when heroes are emotionally locked away from the world until the end of the book, and thank goodness for that. Modern romance heroes are more complex than ever. — Sarah MacLean

But it did not stop her from wishing that it had all been different.
Wishing that she had had the chance to be everything daughters of earls were born to be. Wishing that she'd been raised without a care in the world. Without a doubt in her head that it would someday be her day to sparkle; that she would one day be courted properly - by a man who wanted her for her, not as a spoil from a game of chance.
Wishing that she were not so very alone.
Not that wishing had ever helped. — Sarah MacLean

Like so many others, I came to romance during the golden age of it - Judith McNaught, Julie Garwood, Johanna Lindsey and Jude Deveraux were at the height of their historical domination. Without those women, I wouldn't be a romance novelist. — Sarah MacLean

The truth always did write well. — Sarah MacLean

She accused him of not thinking she was enough for him? The woman was entirely too much for him! She made him want to bellow with rage and hit things, then lock her in a room and kiss her senseless, until she gave in. — Sarah MacLean

I had a perfect life in my reach once, and it was a crashing bore. Perfect is too clean, too easy. I don't want perfect any more than I want to be perfect. I want imperfect. — Sarah MacLean

Yes, she was a scandal.
Her brother simply didn't know it.
"I fell in the Serpentine today."
"Yes, well, that doesn't usually happen to women in London. But it's not so much of a scandal as it is a challenge. — Sarah MacLean

Her touch became stronger, firmer, and he rewarded her skill with a low growl of pleasure. — Sarah MacLean

Perhaps summer's ephemeral nature is what inspires us to embrace the beach read. We tell ourselves that these twisted plots and wild characters are literary ice cream sundaes - extravagant treats that aren't as calorie-laden when we're wearing flip flops. — Sarah MacLean

I really don't think anyone can blame us for wanting no part of the marriage mart if she is already the belle of the ball," Ella said. "My mother even had
the audacity to ask me earlier if I didn't think I should have a gown made like hers! Lord deliver me from the London season — Sarah MacLean

How very sweet. My dear," he said, speaking to Alex, "I imagine he's willing to give up the information because he fancies himself in love with you. Don't you see? Your life simply isn't worth the pleasure of avenging his father's death. It's touching, really." Alex — Sarah MacLean

Here's the thing about romance novels: The moment when the hero and heroine discover that they're perfect for each other is often the moment when it's them against the world. — Sarah MacLean

We don't like it when women get uppity."
"Well," she said, "that is a bit of a problem, as I am feeling quite uppity. — Sarah MacLean

Yet even in the loneliness of the canyon I knew there were others like me who had brothers they did not understand but wanted to help. We are probably those referred to as "our brother's keepers," possessed of one of the oldest and possible one of the most futile and certainly one of the most haunting instincts. It will not let us go. — Norman Maclean

He pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against hers, trying to keep himself from getting another erection. It took great strength of will, but he did it. — Julianne MacLean

Why couldn't someone , somewhere , want her for her ? — Sarah MacLean

Taking in the scene, Ella wrinkled her nose. "Drat. We missed the excitement!" "It appears we did," Vivi agreed, disappointment in her tone. "Ah, well. Next time!" Ella brightened. Alex — Sarah MacLean

You are better for every book you've read. — Sarah MacLean

If I am an empress, he is the only man worthy of being my emperor. — Sarah MacLean

First, I thought we'd already established that I am not a gentleman. That ship sailed long ago. And second, you'd be surprised what gentlemen do...and what ladies enjoy."

~Lord Bourne — Sarah MacLean

She can't force us to go to the ball. We're grown men, for Lord's sake!"
Will cocked an eyebrow at his younger brother. "You don't think she can force us? We are speaking of the same mother, correct? Small frame,
enormous will? — Sarah MacLean

I wrote each book in thirty-five days flat - just to get the darned thing finished. — Alistair MacLean

Don't be so sily, Philippa," the marchioness said, "Lord Castleton is an earl. Beggars cannot be choosers." Penelope gritted her teeth at the adage, her mother's favorite when discussing her unmarried daughters' prospects. Pippa turned her blue gaze on her mother. "I was not aware that I was begging. — Sarah MacLean

It didn't matter the quality of the writing - Callie's fantasies about her fictional heroes were entirely democratic. — Sarah MacLean

It would be stupid for me to attempt to return to Society without basic reconnaissance."
"That is a term usually reserved for military conflict."
She raised a brow. "It is London in season. You think I am not at war? — Sarah MacLean

I never met Colleen McCullough; if I had, I probably would have cried and made a fool of myself. — Sarah MacLean

There is a whole generation of romance readers and writers who suffer from what I like to think of as 'Thorn Birds' Fever. — Sarah MacLean

Why books?"
Her brows rose. "I beg your pardon?"
"Why are they your vice?"
She set her plate down and wiped her hand on her skirts before reaching for the top volume on a stack of small, leather bound books nearby and extending it to him. "Go on."
He took it. "Now what?"
"Smell it." He tilted his head. She couldn't help but smile. "Do it."
He lifted it to his nose. Inhaled.
"Not like that," she said. "Really give it a smell."
He raised one brow but did as he was told.
"What do you smell?" Sophie asked.
"Leather and ink?"
She shook her head. "Happiness. That's what books smells like. Happiness. That's why I always wanted to have a book shop. What better life than to trade in happiness? — Sarah MacLean

May I drive?" "You think I'd consider handing over the reins of this remarkable equipage?" He replied with feigned superiority. For generations, the Earls of Blackmoor had prided themselves on having the most current and impressive modes of transportation. The most recent earl was no different, and the brand-new curricle in which they were riding was certain to be the envy of many. "Indeed. I think you'd enjoy the experience of teaching me how." "I've had this curricle for less than a week, Alex. You're not driving." Alex replied with a comic pout, "I shall convince you otherwise, my lord. I warn you." "Indeed? Well you are welcome to try, my lady." He — Sarah MacLean

You do well to remember that battles are won and lost in their final stages. This time requires constancy, determination, and endurance! Pearls and Pelisses June 1823 I — Sarah MacLean

the smattering of candles about the dark room gave the illusion of dancing in starlight. The moment made her believe that if she spoke her desires aloud, they might actually come true. — Sarah MacLean

Blast it! Where is that letter?"
Sophia pulled it from her pocket. "I have it here."
Sir Reginald's voice lifted with amazament. "You took that from me? When we were-"
"Yes," she said, her color high. "I thought you'd sold my jewelry and that the envelope contained the payment. I wanted proof,so I took it."
"By kissing me?"
Outside, lightning cracked.
"You kissed him?" Dougal demanded.
"Only once."
"Actually, it was twice," Sir Reginald said softly.
Dougal punched him, sending the dandy flying into the wall, where he slid to the floor.
"B'God, that's a nice one!" Red cried. "MacLean, I'd like to see you in a real mill."
"Aye," the earl agreed. "He's got a good solid left."
"What do you know about boxing? Red asked rudely.
"I've seen every large match for the last-"
Thunder crashed as lightning sent shards of light flashing into the great hall.
"That's enough," Dougal said firmly, noting Sophia's pale face. — Karen Hawkins

I knew that, when needed, mountains would move for me. — Norman Maclean

He smiled, setting his forehead to hers. "you are very bad for me. I am trying to turn over a new leaf
I am trying to be more gentlemanly."
"But what if I want you to stay a rake?" she teased, her fingers trailing down his neck and chest, fingering the buttons on his waistcoat. "A libertine, even?" she slipped one fastening from its seat and he grabbed her errant hand, bringing it to his lips for a swift kiss.
"Callie," he said, his voice thick with warning as she set her free hand to the second button on his coat.
"What if I want the rogue, Gabriel?" the question was soft and sweet.
"What are you saying?"
She kissed across the firm square line of his jaw and whispered to him, shyness in her shaking voice, "Take me to bed, Gabriel. Give me a taste of scandal. — Sarah MacLean

As a romance novelist, I have a rather skewed view of babies. You see, they don't typically fit into the classic structure of the romance novel - romance is about two people finding each other and falling in love against insurmountable odds. Babies ... well ... babies are complicated. — Sarah MacLean

In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ's disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman. — Norman Maclean

He continued. "So I shall simply tell you the truth. I have spent my entire life preparing for a cold, unfeeling, unimpassioned life - a life filled with pleasantries and simplicity. And then you came into it . . . you . . . the opposite of all that. You are beautiful and brilliant and bold and so very passionate about life and love and those things that you believe in. And you taught me that everything I believed, everything I thought I wanted, everything I had spent my life espousing - all of it . . . it is wrong. I want your version of life . . . vivid and emotional and messy and wonderful and filled with happiness. But I cannot have it without you.
"I love you, Juliana. I love the way you have turned my entire life upside down, and I am not certain I could live without you now that I have lived with you. — Sarah MacLean

She tilted her head, considering the sensation. "It is strange."
He gave a hiss of laughter at the words. "It only gets stranger, darling. But we shall try for something more. — Sarah MacLean

Ralston didn't care. He turned on his brother as the surgeon knelt next to him and inspected the wound. "She could have been killed!"
And what about you?" This time, it was Callie who spoke, her own pent-up energy releasing in anger, and the men turned as one to look at her, surprised that she and found her voice. "What about you and your idiotic pland to somehow restore my honor by playing guns out in the middle of nowhere with OXFORD?" She said the baron's name in disdain. "Like children? Of all the ridiculous, unnecessary, thoughtless, MALE things to do ... who even FIGHTS duels anymore?! — Sarah MacLean

The most sublime of oddballs, Leonardo da Vinci — Norman Maclean

Do you love him?'
Isabel paused at the question ... She caught a glimpse of herself in a long looking glass, noting her shape silhouetted beneath the silk negligee she had selected for him.
To make him happy.
To make him want her.
To make him love her more.
The truth was, she did love him. — Sarah MacLean

You've got to figure out how you're going to come in and significantly impact and redefine a market such that you become a market share leader in it. — Audrey MacLean

Bev Pettersen writes with flair and a down-to-earth warmth that will make you smile and sigh with contentment. — Julianne MacLean

It wasn't that she thought highly of herself. It was that she thought highly of the promise of more. — Sarah MacLean

Even as she'd come to know the real Ralston - the Ralston who was not cut from heroic cloth - Callie had failed to see the truth. And, instead of seeing her own heartbreak coming, she had fallen in love, not with her fantasy, but with this new, flawed Ralston. — Sarah MacLean

what would be left of it by that time - would be in the Kola — Alistair MacLean

If you think back to your time as a teenager, everything was dramatic. — Sarah MacLean

It appears that you have the advantage of me."
"Indeed, it does seem that way." Callie was shocked by her own boldness.
"May I assist you in some way?"
"I had thought so. However, after witnessing the manner in which you address the women in your life, I find I would rather not join their ranks. — Sarah MacLean

It appears we have found a woman who does not consider you so irresistible. Nick — Sarah MacLean

Few of us ever touch eternity, and if we do, it is not in the ways we expect. — Jordan MacLean

Although I have never pretended to be a great fisherman, it was always important to me that I was a fisherman and looked like one, especially when fishing with my brother. — Norman Maclean

She looked up at him and said,"What did you say?"
"You have beautiful eyes."
"You told my father that he has beautiful eyes?"
He smiled. "No. You distracted me. I told your father that, while I was very grateful for the lesson, I doubt I would ever need of it again- because I was planning to court only one woman in my lifetime. — Sarah MacLean

I've got it! Let's get Alex married off as quickly as possible. That will make it easier for all of us!" Nick spoke with dry humor, "I'm not sure it would make it easier for Alex." Kit feigned disappointment. "Nor her husband, I suspect." "I don't expect many men will be too thrilled at the prospect of courting Alex, to be honest, what with having us to contend with," Will said, then added, "I confess, the only thing I am looking forward to is terrifying her potential suitors." Kit chuckled. "It's an additional benefit that, in terrifying them, we shall infuriate her." The — Sarah MacLean

His unashamed, avenging queen. — Sarah MacLean

But first of all he is a woodsman, and you aren't a woodsman unless you have such a feeling for topography that you can look at the earth and see what it would look like without any woods or covering on it. It's something like the gift all men wish for when they or young
or old
of being able to look through a woman's clothes and see her body, possibly even a little of her character. — Norman Maclean

So what's your second suggestion?"
"Tread lightly."
"That's it? That's the best advice you can give me?"
"All right, tread very lightly. — Sarah MacLean

We judge everything as good or evil and forget that resistance, pain and difficulties are there so we can learn when we leave balance. — Dorothy Maclean

Unless we are willing to escape into sentimentality or fantasy, often the best we can do with catastrophes, even our own, is to find out exactly what happened and restore some of the missing parts. — Norman Maclean

When I looked, I knew I might never again see so much of the earth so beautiful, the beautiful being something you know added to something you see, in a whole that is different from the sum of its parts. What I saw might have been just another winter scene, although an impressive one. But what I knew was that the earth underneath was alive and that by tomorrow, certainly by the day after, it would be all green again. So what I saw because of what I knew was a kind of death with the marvellous promise of less than a three-day resurrection. — Norman Maclean

Far back in the impulses to find this story is a storyteller's belief that at times life takes on the shape of art and that the remembered remnants of these moments are largely what we come to mean by life. The short semihumours comedies we live, our long certain tragedies, and our springtime lyrics and limericks make up most of what we are. they become almost all of what we remember of ourselves. — Norman Maclean

MacLean has shown that the R-complex plays an important role in aggressive behavior, territoriality, ritual and the establishment of social hierarchies. Despite occasional welcome exceptions, this seems to me to characterize a great deal of modern human bureaucratic and political behavior. — Carl Sagan

I think romance is maligned in large part because at first glance, love seems so pedestrian. It's all around us. It's in books and songs and movies and on billboards, so how could it really hold literary value? But what people tend to forget is that the search for love - for the simple idea that there is someone out there who will see us for who we are and accept us isn't trite. It's a huge part of our lives. And it's an enormous part of our dreams.
There are so many fabulous romances out there - there's something for everyone. I really believe that. And I believe that most of the people who look down their noses at the genre haven't ever read a romance novel. I think that if they did, they'd be really surprised by how good great romance can be. — Sarah MacLean

You should see what she's wearing, Callie. It's velvet. Canary yellow velvet. Turban to match. She looks like a furry banana. — Sarah MacLean

His hand came to her neck, his fingers tracing the corded muscle there, and she knew he could feel her pulse racing. "You think I did not miss you?" She froze at the words, her breath coming shallow, desperate for him to say more. "You think I did not miss everything about you? Everything you represented?" He pressed against her, his breath soft against her temple. She closed her eyes. How had they found themselves here, in this place where he was so dark and so broken? "You think I did not want to come home?" His voice was thick with emotion. "But there was no home to which I could return. There was no one there." "You're wrong," she argued. "I was there. I was there . . . and I was . . ." Alone. She swallowed. "I was there. — Sarah MacLean

Oh, my. The Marques of Jonesborough requests that I join him for a ride in his phaeton this afternoon; only he fears my beauty will blind his horses." The end of the sentence was swallowed by Alex's own disbelieving giggle. "Surely he can't think I would take that seriously. — Sarah MacLean

There was such a thing as luck, but to acknowledge its existence was to hold two fingers up to fate. — Alistair MacLean

We cannot marry,' she said softly.
He kissed the top of her head. 'Sleep with me tonight, and let me convince you tomorrow why it is the best of all my ideas. — Sarah MacLean

Does it hurt?" Like a bastard. "Women are known for their ability to endure pain." "Mmm. And to think you are considered the weaker sex." She cut him a look. "A label no doubt assigned by a man who never witnessed a childbirth. — Sarah MacLean

When a smile touches our hearts. When the forest stills us to peace. When music moves us to rapture. When we really love, laugh or dance with joy. We are at one with the Angels. — Dorothy Maclean

He broke off the kiss then, running his lips across her cheek and setting them to her ear, taking the soft lobe between his teeth and biting gently, sending waves of pleasure caressing through her body as he laved the sensitive skin there. From far away, Callie heard a whimper... and belatedly realized that it was her own.
His lips curved at her ear as he spoke, his arch breathing making the words more a caress than a sound. "Kisses should not leave you satisfied."
He returned his lips to hers, claiming her mouth again, robbing her of all thought with a rich, heady caress. All she wanted was to be closer to him, to be held more firmly. And, as though he could read her thoughts, he gathered her closer, deepening the kiss. His heat consumed her; his soft, teasing lips seemed to know all of her secrets.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, she had lost all strength. His next words pierced through her sensual haze.
"They should leave you wanting. — Sarah MacLean

How long was I asleep?"
"Over an hour," the Butcher replied.
"An hour? Surely not."
"Aye. You were moaning my name and saying, 'Oh, yes, Duncan, yes, yes. Again, again ... — Julianne MacLean

Life every now and then becomes literature ... as if life had been made and not happened. — Norman Maclean

In books by women and for women, it should come as no surprise that heroines are the heroes of the action, finding themselves, their power and their future through love. — Sarah MacLean

Oh, my. Empress."
His words pulled her from her thoughts. His gaze was locked upon her, taking in the beautiful silk lingerie, the delicate fabric that clung to her curves, hinting temptingly at what it hid. He reminded her of a wolf- hungry and eager to snare its prey- and her breath caught as his eyes met hers, desire rife within them. — Sarah MacLean

You think my feelings toward you apathetic? You think you bore me?"
"Don't I?"
He shook his head slowly, continuing toward her, stalking her in the small space.
"No.God knows you are infuriating . And impulsive ... " Her back came up against the wall, and she gave a little squeak, even as he advanced. "And altogether maddening ... " He placed one hand to her jaw, carefully lifting her face to his, feeling the leap of her pulse under his fingertips. "And thoroughly intoxicating ... " The last came out on a low growl, and her lips parted, soft and pink and perfect.
He leaned close, his lips a fraction from hers.
"No ... you are not boring. — Sarah MacLean

How sad," she whispered to herself. He heard it. "What?" She shook her head, meeting his gaze, the only thing familiar about him. "He's gone." "Who?" "My friend. — Sarah MacLean

What a beautiful world it was once. At least a river of it was. — Norman Maclean