Quinn Hughes Quotes

Why do you joke about such things?" she snapped. He let his gaze land rather intently on hers. "When the alternative is despair, I generally prefer humor. Even if it is of the gallows variety.

And when he kissed her . . . All she wanted was more. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, and for the first time in her life, Sarah truly believed that she was. She touched his cheek. “So are you.” Hugh smiled down at her, a silly half grin that told her he did not believe her for one second.

His leg throbbed, but his heart felt lighter, and for the first time in years, the world seemed to be filled with possibility. “I love you,” he said. And he thought to himself, That makes five. Five times he’d said it. It wasn’t nearly enough. “And I love you.” She bent down and kissed his leg. He touched his face and felt tears. He hadn’t realized he was crying. “I love you,” he said again.

I had a feeling you’d like that,” he said with a satisfied grin. “Why do I feel it . . . everywhere?” “Everywhere?” he murmured. His fingers moved between her legs. “Or here?” “Everywhere,” she said breathlessly, “but there most of all.

Our world is filled with meaningless conversations. It is an honour to participate in one that is not.

Is your head bothering you?" Louisa asked. But she wasn't paying much attention. Frederick, her ridiculously fat basset hounds, had spotted a fellow canine in the distance and was yanking on the lead. "Frederick!" she yelped, tripping on a step or two before she found her footing. Frederick stopped, althought it wasn't clear if it was due to Louisa's hold on the lead or outright exhaustion. He let out a hugh sigh, and frankly, Annabel was suprised that he didn't collapse on the ground. "I think someone has been sneaking him sausages again," Louisa grumbled. Annabel looked elsewhere. "Annabel!" "He looked so HUNGERY," Annabel insisted. Louisa motioned toward her dog, whos belly slid along the grass. "THAT looks hungery?" "His eyes looked hungery.

Don't get me wrong, I loved Hugh Jackman as much the next girl. But, watching amazing books get turned into award-winning movies that people didn't even realize had been books first—well, it kind of broke my heart.

In the final scene of Power, the Supreme Court justices appear as a striking abstraction: Nine scowling masks line up in a row on top of a giant podium. Chief Justice Charles Evans Hughes speaks the majority opinion: 'Water power, the right to convert it into electric energy, and the electric energy thus produced constitute property belonging to the United States.

I can’t help but think that if she was going to kill herself, she might as well have done it earlier. Perhaps when I was a toddler. Or better yet, an infant. It certainly would have made my life easier. I asked my uncle Hugh (who is not really my uncle, but he is married to the stepsister of my current mother’s brother’s wife and he lives quite closeand he’s a vicar) if I would be going to hell for such a thought. He said no, that frankly, it made a lot of sense to him. I do think I prefer his parish to my own.

Oranges and unicorns say the bells of St. . . .” She looked to Harriet for inspiration. “Clunicorns?” “Somehow I don’t think so.” “Moonicorns.” Sarah cocked her head to the side. “Better,” she judged. “Spoonicorns? Zoomicorns.” And . . . that was enough. Sarah turned back to her book. “We’re done now, Harriet.” “Parunicorns.” Sarah couldn’t even imagine where that one had come from. But still, she found herself humming as she read. Oranges and lemons say the bells of St. Clements. Meanwhile, Harriet was muttering to herself at the desk. “Pontoonicorns xyloonicorns . . .” You owe me five farthings say the bells of St. Martins. “Oh, oh, oh, I have it! Hughnicorns!” Sarah froze. This she could not ignore. With great deliberation, she placed her index finger in her book to mark her place and looked up. “What did you just say?” “Hughnicorns,” Harriet replied, as if nothing could have been more ordinary. She gave Sarah a sly look. “Named for Lord Hugh, of course. He does seem to be a frequent topic of conversation.

He is asking Caroline to produce a list," Georgina explained. "What sort of list?" Finchley asked. "A list of women to marry," Hugh said feeling as if his idea had been a stupid one. Now even Finchbird would take the piss out of him as well. "I find that one wife is more than enough," his brother-in-law said grinning.

And then Alec had a providient thought. "D'you want my sister?" "Octavia!" Hugh gasped at him. "isn't she twelve?" "She's nineteen." "I can't marry her. I'd keep picturing her as twelve.

I like Lord Hugh very much. It’s true that he can be a little eccentric, but he’s terribly clever. And he’s a very good shot.” All eyes swung back to Frances. “He shot Cousin Daniel in the shoulder,” Sarah reminded her. “He’s a very good shot when he’s sober,” Frances clarified. “Daniel said so.

...there us a difference you know, between the male and the female ghost-" "What is the difference?" Georgina asked. "Oh, the male ghost is obsessed with venegemce, I find." Lear said, drinking again. "And what are females obsessed by?" Hugh asked. "Prick songs," Lear said. "Snogging. Same as when they are alive, really.

I need to know how you can be so certain,' Daniel said, his voice dropping into a furious hush. 'Well...' Hugh brought his glass to his lips and took something deeper than a sip. 'If you must know, I told him that if anything happens to you, I would kill myself.' If Daniel had been holding anything, anything at all, it would have crashed to the ground. It was a remarkable thing that *he* did not crash to the ground. 'My father knows me well enough to know that I do not say such a thing lightly,' Hugh said, lightly. Daniel couldn't speak. 'So if you would...' Hugh took another drink, this time barely touching his lips to the liquid. 'I would appreciate if you would endeavor not to get yourself killed in an unhappy accident. I'm sure to blame it on my father, and honestly, I'd rather not see myself off unnecessarily.' 'You're mad,' Daniel whispered ... 'Why would you do such a thing?' Daniel could not imagine anyone else - not even Marcus, who was truly a brother to him - making the same sort of threat.

Do you know how the tradition of the bridal bouquet toss was formed?” Hugh asked. Sarah shook her head. “Are you asking me because you know, or are you asking me because you want to know?” He ignored her slight sarcasm and said, “Brides are considered to be good luck, and many centuries ago young women who wanted a piece of that luck tried quite literally to get a piece of it by tearing off bits of her gown.” “That’s barbaric!” Frances exclaimed. He smiled at her outburst. “I can only deduce that some clever soul realized that if the bride could offer a different token of her romantic success, it might prove beneficial to her health and well-being.

You looked lonely.” Hugh smiled again. It was the sort of thing an adult would never have said aloud. And precisely the reason he’d rather have been chatting with her than anyone else in the room. “I was alone, not lonely.” Frances frowned, considering that. Hugh was just about to explain the difference when she cocked her head and asked, “Are you sure?” “Alone is a state of being,” he explained, “whereas lonely is—” “I know that,” she cut in. He regarded her. “Then I’m afraid I do not understand your question.” She cocked her head to the side. “I was just wondering if a person always knows when he is lonely.

I have found that happy people are dull. You two, on the other hand, looked ready to spit nails. Naturally I came right over.” She looked from Hugh to Sarah and then said plainly, “Entertain me.

If they weren’t cousins,” Iris said in that dry tone Hugh was coming to realize was uniquely hers, “that would have been very romantic.” Hugh looked at her. “I said if they weren’t cousins,” she protested. “Anyway, he’s so desperately in love with Miss Wynter he would not notice if an entire naked harem fell from the ceiling.” “Oh, he’d notice,” Hugh said, since he was quite sure that Iris was trying to be provoking. “He just wouldn’t do anything about it.” As Hugh walked into the dining room with the wrong woman on his arm, it occurred to him that he, too, wouldn’t do anything about it. If a naked harem fell from the ceiling.

Oh, Hugh?” He turned to see her smiling like a cat with cream. “Yes, my love?” “I said I didn’t need a ring.” He quirked a brow. “I do.” She wiggled her fingers. “Need a ring. Just so you know.” He threw back his head and laughed.