Mary Balogh
Mary Balogh
Mary Baloghis a Welsh-Canadian historical romance novelist...
NationalityWelsh
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth24 March 1944
mother lonely son
But a mother-son relationship is not a coequal one, is it? He is lonely with only you just as you are lonely with only him.
beautiful lying real
The real meaning of things lies deep down and the real meaning of things is always beautiful because it is simply love.
space soul depth
Even friends need private spaces, if only within the depths of their own souls, where no one else is allowed to intrude.
believe heart opposites
I prefer to believe the opposite - that there is always an indestructible beauty at the heart of darkness.
flower heart rose
Everyone was a rose but even more complex than a mere flower. Everyone was made up of infinitely layered petals. And everyone had something indescribably precious at the heart of their being. No one was shallow. Not really.
beautiful people shells
Why did people assume that the beautiful among them needed nothing but their beauty to bring them happiness? That behind the beauty there was nothing but an empty shell, insensitive shell?
past motive prove
Occasionally we all do wrong things from right motives. Only time can prove us right or wrong. The past is the past. Nothing can change it now, and who is to say that it was all wrong, anyway?
sorry wine tomorrow
She was not sorry. And if it was the wine telling her that, then she would tell the wine the same thing tomorrow. She was not sorry.
pride years asking
I do beg you to have some regard for my pride. A million years? I assure you I would stop asking after the first thousand.
lonely loneliness faces
The worst thing about loneliness is that it brings one face to face with oneself.
love inspirational one-day
One day you will learn that love does not always betray you.
mind able impossible
I'm terrified that I will never be able to put him from my mind. I don't love him but I'm afraid that he will make it impossible for me ever to love anyone else.
effort tears cry
Tears never were worth the effort of crying them.
worthy make-sense
Love did not have to make sense. It did not have to be worthy. It did not have to be earned. It did not have to woo. It just simply was.