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Quote by Julie Garwood

Work

Honor's Splendour

Honor's Splendour is a fictional narrative that delves into the complexities of honor and its manifestation in the lives of its characters. Set in a vividly realized world, the story weaves together elements of tradition, power struggles, and the pursuit of glory. more

Author

Julie Garwood
Julie Garwood

Julie Garwood, born in 1944 in the United States, is a renowned American author. Known for her historical and romance novels, her works have won the hearts of many readers. Garwood's novels are characterized by their rich historical background and profound character development, often blending elements of love, adventure, and history. more

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“I envied women with signature hair-dos, signature perfumes, signature sign-offs. Novelists who tell Vogue Magazine: “I can’t live without my Smythson notebook, Pomegranate Noir cologne by Jo Malone and Frette sheets”. In the grip of madness, materialism begins to look like an admirable belief system.”

“When you start to really know someone, all his physical characteristics start to disappear. You begin to dwell in his energy, recognize the scent of his skin. You see only the essence of the person,not the shell. That's why you can't fall in love with beauty. You can lust after it, be infatuated by it, want to own it. You can love it with your eyes and body but not your heart. And that's why, when you really connect with a person's inner self, any physical imperfections disappear, become irrelevant.”

“I am sure," cried Catherine, "I did not mean to say anything wrong; but it is a nice book, and why should not I call it so?" "Very true," said Henry, "and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk, and you are two very nice young ladies. Oh! It is a very nice word indeed! It does for everything. Originally perhaps it was applied only to express neatness, propriety, delicacy, or refinement—people were nice in their dress, in their sentiments, or their choice. But now every commendation on every subject is comprised in that one word.”

“I know what you said! My mother would never have belonged to something like that. Some kind of-some kind of hate group." "It wasn't-," Jace began, but Hodge cut him off. "I doubt," he said slowly, as if the words pained him, "that she had much choice." Clary stared. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't she have had a choice?" "Because," said Hodge, "she was Valentine's wife.”