I wish i could feed my soul just like i feed my hunger.

to hope was to expect

She knew that what Marianne and her mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next: that with them, to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.

It had been wishful thinking, plain and simple, dangerous for me to indulge in. Hope, happiness and freedom were not in my future.

raking a hand through his hair, he forced his attention to the text she'd left on the coffee table, refusing to dwell on the disconcerting fact that a part of him had taken one look at the lass in such proximity to his bed and said simply: Mine

I love you, lirsha