M. K. Hobson Quotes

Was your mother furious?
"She'll get over it," Stanton said. "Perhaps not in this lifetime, but I happen to believe in reincarnation, so there's still hope."

Emily already knew there was going to be hell to pay, and she supposed there was no use allowing it to accrue interest.

It was disappointing, as if a wish she didn’t know she’d made hadn’t come true.

She was painfully aware that doing one’s best was never assurance that it wasn’t the wrong choice anyway.

It was her own evil assumptions that had done her in. She hadn’t even considered the third possible explanation for his strange behavior—that he was a perfectly nice man, without an ounce of guile, just trying to be helpful. People helped people in California. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She’d only been in New York a few weeks, and already she was turning hard and suspicious.

Could one die from boredom, she wondered? From complete, oppressive, crushing, unmitigated boredom, the likes of which made all other boredom seem like ecstasy’s sweet thrilling embrace? And in such a case, if one happened to have a life insurance policy, would it pay?

Love. Such a lot of damn fuss.

In his idle hours, Heusler sometimes amused himself by trying to conceive of a crime a mortal man could commit that was more monstrous than making a goddess fall in love with him. He had never succeeded.

But it was impossible to remain so long in the company of a female, even a divine one, without suffering some form of disillusionment.

Sadly, there is a fine line between patriotism and paranoia.

You know, there’s one thing about you that always astonishes me. The longer you talk, the wronger you get.

“I’ll do everything I can to help, I promise.”
“You always have,” Emily murmured. Except tell me the truth about anything.

Emily stared into the middle distance, trying to ignore the fact that the men were looking at her like a cupcake on a plate.

She wanted to crawl into his arms and be soothed, and soothe him in return, and forget all the grand ideas she’d ever had about true love, and the necessity for it. Because true love was a load of baloney. Finding a good friend...a good friend who trusted you...was more than enough.

Senator Stanton? The man who’s sold his own soul so many times that no one can figure out who actually owns it?