Mary Balogh
Mary Balogh
Mary Baloghis a Welsh-Canadian historical romance novelist...
NationalityWelsh
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth24 March 1944
love-is doe sometimes
Sometimes it just seems that love is not enough, does it?
pain
The bad part is life continues. The good part is that the pain goes away.
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.
love-you heart years
After you married, Crispin, she said, my heart was broken. I will not deny it. But I did not slip into a sort of suspended life that would be forever gray and meaningless if you did not somehow come back to me. I put back the pieces of my heart and kept on living. I am not the woman I was when I was in love with you and expecting to marry you. I am not the woman I was when I heard that you were married. I am the woman I have become in the five years since then, and she is a totally different person. I like her. I wish to continue living her life.
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.
hero play people
It was so much more comfortable to be able to divide people into heroes and villains and expect them to play their allotted part.
benefits too-much use
My happiness has to come from within myself or it is too fragile a thing to be of any use to me and too much of a burden to benefit any of my loved ones.
feelings suffering way
The suffering of a loved one was in many ways worse than one's one suffering because it left one feeling so very helpless.
philosophical happy-life thinking
Black is the absence of all color. White is the presence of all colors. I suppose life must be one or the other. On the whole, though, I think I would prefer color to its absence. But then black does add depth and texture to color. Perhaps certain shades of gray are necessary to a complete palette. Even unrelieved black. Ah, a deep philosophical question. Is black necessary to life, even a happy life? Could we ever be happy if we did not at least occasionally experience misery?
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.
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.
children perfection parent
But parents, she supposed, were not the pinnacle of perfection their children thought or expected them to be. They were humans who usually did the best they could but often made the wrong choices.
pain giving people
The people we love are usually stronger than we give them credit for. It is the nature of love, perhaps, to want to shoulder all the pain rather than see the loved one suffer. But sometimes pain is better than emptiness. I have been so empty Kit. All my life. So full of emptiness. That is strange paradox is nit not - full of emptiness?