Beatrix Quotes
Quotes tagged as "beatrix"
Showing 1-13 of 13
“And Poppy, remember that someday you will meet a frog who will turn into a handsome prince."
"Good," Beatrix said. "Because all she's met so far are princes who turn into frogs."
"Mr. Bayning is not a frog," Poppy protested.
"You're right," Beatrix said. "That was very unfair to frogs, who are lovely creatures.”
― Tempt Me at Twilight
"Good," Beatrix said. "Because all she's met so far are princes who turn into frogs."
"Mr. Bayning is not a frog," Poppy protested.
"You're right," Beatrix said. "That was very unfair to frogs, who are lovely creatures.”
― Tempt Me at Twilight
“As I sit here writing to you, I have propped my stocking feet much too close to the hearth. I’ve actually singed my stockings on occasion, and once I had to stomp out my feet when they started smoking. Even after that I can’t seem to rid myself of the habit. There, now you could pick me out of a crowd blindfolded. Simply follow the scent of scorched stockings.”
― Love in the Afternoon
― Love in the Afternoon
“Amelia and Poppy both glanced at their younger sister quizzically. “Do you know what we’re talking about, Bea?” Amelia asked.
“Yes, of course. Merripen’s in love with her. I knew it a long time ago, from the way he washed her window.”
“Washed her window?” both older sisters asked at the same time.
“Yes, when we lived in the cottage at Primrose Place. Win’s room had a casement window that looked out onto the big maple tree— do you remember? After the scarlet fever, when Win couldn’t get out of bed for the longest time and she was too weak to hold a book, she would just lie there and watch a birds’ nest on one of the tree limbs. She saw the baby swallows hatch and learn to fly. One day she complained that the window was so dirty, she could barely see through it, and it made the sky look grayish. So from then on Merripen always kept the glass spotless. Sometimes he climbed a ladder to wash the outside, and you know how afraid of heights he is. You never saw him do that?”
“No,” Amelia said with difficulty, her eyes stinging. “I didn’t know he did that.”
“Merripen said the sky should always be blue for her,” Beatrix said. “And that was when I knew he … are you crying, Poppy?”
Poppy used a napkin to dab at the corners of her eyes. “No. I just inh-haled some pepper.”
“So did I,” Amelia said, blowing her nose.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Yes, of course. Merripen’s in love with her. I knew it a long time ago, from the way he washed her window.”
“Washed her window?” both older sisters asked at the same time.
“Yes, when we lived in the cottage at Primrose Place. Win’s room had a casement window that looked out onto the big maple tree— do you remember? After the scarlet fever, when Win couldn’t get out of bed for the longest time and she was too weak to hold a book, she would just lie there and watch a birds’ nest on one of the tree limbs. She saw the baby swallows hatch and learn to fly. One day she complained that the window was so dirty, she could barely see through it, and it made the sky look grayish. So from then on Merripen always kept the glass spotless. Sometimes he climbed a ladder to wash the outside, and you know how afraid of heights he is. You never saw him do that?”
“No,” Amelia said with difficulty, her eyes stinging. “I didn’t know he did that.”
“Merripen said the sky should always be blue for her,” Beatrix said. “And that was when I knew he … are you crying, Poppy?”
Poppy used a napkin to dab at the corners of her eyes. “No. I just inh-haled some pepper.”
“So did I,” Amelia said, blowing her nose.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“All conversation had stopped. Following the guests’ collective gazes, Cam saw something—a lizard?—wriggling and slithering its way past sauceboats and salt cellars. Without hesitation he reached out and captured the small creature, cupping it in closed hands. The lizard squirmed furiously in the space between his closed palms.
“I’ve got it,” he said mildly.
The vicar’s wife half fainted, slumping back in her chair with a low moan.
“Don’t hurt him!” Beatrix Hathaway called out anxiously. “He’s a family pet!”
The assembled guests glanced from Cam’s closed hands to the Hathaway girl’s apologetic face.
“A pet?… What a relief,” Lady Westcliff said calmly, staring down the length of the table at her husband’s blank countenance. “I thought it was some new English delicacy we were serving.”
A swift wash of color darkened Westcliff’s face, and he looked away from her with fierce concentration. To anyone who knew him well, it was obvious he was struggling not to laugh.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“I’ve got it,” he said mildly.
The vicar’s wife half fainted, slumping back in her chair with a low moan.
“Don’t hurt him!” Beatrix Hathaway called out anxiously. “He’s a family pet!”
The assembled guests glanced from Cam’s closed hands to the Hathaway girl’s apologetic face.
“A pet?… What a relief,” Lady Westcliff said calmly, staring down the length of the table at her husband’s blank countenance. “I thought it was some new English delicacy we were serving.”
A swift wash of color darkened Westcliff’s face, and he looked away from her with fierce concentration. To anyone who knew him well, it was obvious he was struggling not to laugh.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Mr. Rohan,” she heard Beatrix ask, “are you going to marry my sister?”
Amelia choked on her tea and set the cup down. She sputtered and coughed into her napkin.
“Hush, Beatrix,” Win murmured.
“But she’s wearing his ring—”
Poppy clamped her hand over Beatrix’s mouth. “Hush!”
“I might,” Cam replied. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he continued. “I find your sister a bit lacking in humor. And she doesn’t seem particularly obedient. On the other hand—”
One set of French doors flew open, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. Everyone on the back terrace looked up in startlement, the men rising from their chairs.
“No,” came Win’s soft cry.
Merripen stood there, having dragged himself from his sickbed. He was bandaged and disheveled, but he looked far from helpless. He looked like a maddened bull, his dark head lowered, his hands clenched into massive fists. And his stare, promising death, was firmly fixed on Cam.
There was no mistaking the bloodlust of a Roma whose kinswoman had been dishonored.
“Oh, God,” Amelia muttered.
Cam, who stood beside her chair, glanced down at her questioningly. “Did you say something to him?”
Amelia turned red as she recalled her blood-spotted nightgown and the maid’s expression. “It must have been servants’ talk.”
Cam stared at the enraged giant with resignation. “You may be in luck,” he said to Amelia. “It looks as if our betrothal is going to end prematurely.”
She made to stand beside him, but he pressed her back into the chair. “Stay out of this. I don’t want you hurt in the fray.”
“He won’t hurt me,” Amelia said curtly. “It’s you he wants to slaughter.”
Holding Merripen’s gaze, Cam moved slowly away from the table. “Is there something you’d like to discuss, chal?” he asked with admirable self-possession.
Merripen replied in Romany. Although no one save Cam understood what he said, it was clearly not encouraging.
“I’m going to marry her,” Cam said, as if to pacify him.
“That’s even worse!” Merripen moved forward, murder in his eyes.
Lord St. Vincent swiftly interceded, stepping between the pair. Like Cam, he’d had his share of putting down fights at the gambling club. He lifted his hands in a staying gesture and spoke smoothly. “Easy, large fellow. I’m sure you can find a way to resolve your differences in a reasonable fashion.”
“Get out of my way,” Merripen growled, putting an end to the notion of civilized discourse.
St. Vincent’s pleasant expression didn’t change. “You have a point. There’s nothing so tiresome as being reasonable. I myself avoid it whenever possible. Still, I’m afraid you can’t brawl when there are ladies present. It might give them ideas.”
― Mine Till Midnight
Amelia choked on her tea and set the cup down. She sputtered and coughed into her napkin.
“Hush, Beatrix,” Win murmured.
“But she’s wearing his ring—”
Poppy clamped her hand over Beatrix’s mouth. “Hush!”
“I might,” Cam replied. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he continued. “I find your sister a bit lacking in humor. And she doesn’t seem particularly obedient. On the other hand—”
One set of French doors flew open, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. Everyone on the back terrace looked up in startlement, the men rising from their chairs.
“No,” came Win’s soft cry.
Merripen stood there, having dragged himself from his sickbed. He was bandaged and disheveled, but he looked far from helpless. He looked like a maddened bull, his dark head lowered, his hands clenched into massive fists. And his stare, promising death, was firmly fixed on Cam.
There was no mistaking the bloodlust of a Roma whose kinswoman had been dishonored.
“Oh, God,” Amelia muttered.
Cam, who stood beside her chair, glanced down at her questioningly. “Did you say something to him?”
Amelia turned red as she recalled her blood-spotted nightgown and the maid’s expression. “It must have been servants’ talk.”
Cam stared at the enraged giant with resignation. “You may be in luck,” he said to Amelia. “It looks as if our betrothal is going to end prematurely.”
She made to stand beside him, but he pressed her back into the chair. “Stay out of this. I don’t want you hurt in the fray.”
“He won’t hurt me,” Amelia said curtly. “It’s you he wants to slaughter.”
Holding Merripen’s gaze, Cam moved slowly away from the table. “Is there something you’d like to discuss, chal?” he asked with admirable self-possession.
Merripen replied in Romany. Although no one save Cam understood what he said, it was clearly not encouraging.
“I’m going to marry her,” Cam said, as if to pacify him.
“That’s even worse!” Merripen moved forward, murder in his eyes.
Lord St. Vincent swiftly interceded, stepping between the pair. Like Cam, he’d had his share of putting down fights at the gambling club. He lifted his hands in a staying gesture and spoke smoothly. “Easy, large fellow. I’m sure you can find a way to resolve your differences in a reasonable fashion.”
“Get out of my way,” Merripen growled, putting an end to the notion of civilized discourse.
St. Vincent’s pleasant expression didn’t change. “You have a point. There’s nothing so tiresome as being reasonable. I myself avoid it whenever possible. Still, I’m afraid you can’t brawl when there are ladies present. It might give them ideas.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Poppy was busy with needlework, stitching a pair of men’s slippers with bright wool threads, while Beatrix played solitaire on the floor near the hearth. Noticing the way her youngest sister was riffling through the cards, Amelia laughed. “Beatrix,” she said after Win had finished a chapter, “why in heaven’s name would you cheat at solitaire? You’re playing against yourself.”
“Then there’s no one to object when I cheat.”
“It’s not whether you win but how you win that’s important,” Amelia said.
“I’ve heard that before, and I don’t agree at all. It’s much nicer to win.”
Poppy shook her head over her embroidery. “Beatrix, you are positively shameless.”
“And a winner,” Beatrix said with satisfaction, laying down the exact card she wanted.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Then there’s no one to object when I cheat.”
“It’s not whether you win but how you win that’s important,” Amelia said.
“I’ve heard that before, and I don’t agree at all. It’s much nicer to win.”
Poppy shook her head over her embroidery. “Beatrix, you are positively shameless.”
“And a winner,” Beatrix said with satisfaction, laying down the exact card she wanted.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Poppy took a deep, appreciative breath. “How bracing,” she said. “I wonder what makes the country air smell so different?”
“It could be the pig farm we just passed,” Leo muttered.
Beatrix, who had been reading from a pamphlet describing the south of England, said cheerfully, “Hampshire is known for its exceptional pigs. They’re fed on acorns and beechnut mast from the forest, and it makes the bacon quite lovely. And there’s an annual sausage competition!”
He gave her a sour look. “Splendid. I certainly hope we haven’t missed it.”
Win, who had been reading from a thick tome about Hampshire and its environs, volunteered, “The history of Ramsay House is impressive.”
“Our house is in a history book?” Beatrix asked in delight.
“It’s only a small paragraph,” Win said from behind the book, “but yes, Ramsay House is mentioned. Of course, it’s nothing compared to our neighbor, the Earl of Westcliff, whose estate features one of the finest country homes in England. It dwarfs ours by comparison. And the earl’s family has been in residence for nearly five hundred years.”
“He must be awfully old, then,” Poppy commented, straight-faced.
Beatrix snickered. “Go on, Win.”
“‘Ramsay House,’” Win read aloud, “‘stands in a small park populated with stately oaks and beeches, coverts of bracken, and surrounds of deer-cropped turf. Originally an Elizabethan manor house completed in 1594, the building boasts of many long galleries representative of the period. Alterations and additions to the house have resulted in the grafting of a Jacobean ballroom and a Georgian wing.’”
“We have a ballroom!” Poppy exclaimed.
“We have deer!” Beatrix said gleefully.
Leo settled deeper into his corner. “God, I hope we have a privy.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“It could be the pig farm we just passed,” Leo muttered.
Beatrix, who had been reading from a pamphlet describing the south of England, said cheerfully, “Hampshire is known for its exceptional pigs. They’re fed on acorns and beechnut mast from the forest, and it makes the bacon quite lovely. And there’s an annual sausage competition!”
He gave her a sour look. “Splendid. I certainly hope we haven’t missed it.”
Win, who had been reading from a thick tome about Hampshire and its environs, volunteered, “The history of Ramsay House is impressive.”
“Our house is in a history book?” Beatrix asked in delight.
“It’s only a small paragraph,” Win said from behind the book, “but yes, Ramsay House is mentioned. Of course, it’s nothing compared to our neighbor, the Earl of Westcliff, whose estate features one of the finest country homes in England. It dwarfs ours by comparison. And the earl’s family has been in residence for nearly five hundred years.”
“He must be awfully old, then,” Poppy commented, straight-faced.
Beatrix snickered. “Go on, Win.”
“‘Ramsay House,’” Win read aloud, “‘stands in a small park populated with stately oaks and beeches, coverts of bracken, and surrounds of deer-cropped turf. Originally an Elizabethan manor house completed in 1594, the building boasts of many long galleries representative of the period. Alterations and additions to the house have resulted in the grafting of a Jacobean ballroom and a Georgian wing.’”
“We have a ballroom!” Poppy exclaimed.
“We have deer!” Beatrix said gleefully.
Leo settled deeper into his corner. “God, I hope we have a privy.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Snuggling comfortably in her corner, Beatrix gave her older sister a perplexed glance. “Win? You have the oddest look on your face. Is something the matter?”
Win had frozen in the act of lifting a teacup to her lips, her blue eyes round with alarm.
Following her sister’s gaze, Amelia saw a small reptilian creature slithering up Beatrix’s shoulder. A sharp cry escaped her lips, and she moved forward with her hands raised.
Beatrix glanced at her shoulder. “Oh, drat. You’re supposed to stay in my pocket.” She plucked the wriggling object from her shoulder and stroked him gently. “A spotted sand lizard,” she said. “Isn’t he adorable? I found him in my room last night.”
Amelia lowered her hands and stared dumbly at her youngest sister.
“You’ve made a pet of him?” Win asked weakly. “Beatrix, dear, don’t you think he would be happier in the forest where he belongs?”
Beatrix looked indignant. “With all those predators? Spot wouldn’t last a minute.”
Amelia found her voice. “He won’t last a minute with me, either. Get rid of him, Bea, or I’m going to flatten him with the nearest heavy object I can find.”
“You would murder my pet?”
“One doesn’t murder lizards, Bea. One exterminates them.” Exasperated, Amelia turned to Merripen. “Find some cleaning women in the village, Merripen. God knows how many other unwanted creatures are lurking in the house. Not counting Leo.”
Merripen disappeared at once.
“Spot is the perfect pet,” Beatrix argued. “He doesn’t bite, and he’s already house-trained.”
“I draw the line at pets with scales.”
Beatrix stared at her mutinously. “The sand lizard is a native species of Hampshire—which means Spot has more right to be here than we do.”
“Nevertheless, we will not be cohabiting.”
― Mine Till Midnight
Win had frozen in the act of lifting a teacup to her lips, her blue eyes round with alarm.
Following her sister’s gaze, Amelia saw a small reptilian creature slithering up Beatrix’s shoulder. A sharp cry escaped her lips, and she moved forward with her hands raised.
Beatrix glanced at her shoulder. “Oh, drat. You’re supposed to stay in my pocket.” She plucked the wriggling object from her shoulder and stroked him gently. “A spotted sand lizard,” she said. “Isn’t he adorable? I found him in my room last night.”
Amelia lowered her hands and stared dumbly at her youngest sister.
“You’ve made a pet of him?” Win asked weakly. “Beatrix, dear, don’t you think he would be happier in the forest where he belongs?”
Beatrix looked indignant. “With all those predators? Spot wouldn’t last a minute.”
Amelia found her voice. “He won’t last a minute with me, either. Get rid of him, Bea, or I’m going to flatten him with the nearest heavy object I can find.”
“You would murder my pet?”
“One doesn’t murder lizards, Bea. One exterminates them.” Exasperated, Amelia turned to Merripen. “Find some cleaning women in the village, Merripen. God knows how many other unwanted creatures are lurking in the house. Not counting Leo.”
Merripen disappeared at once.
“Spot is the perfect pet,” Beatrix argued. “He doesn’t bite, and he’s already house-trained.”
“I draw the line at pets with scales.”
Beatrix stared at her mutinously. “The sand lizard is a native species of Hampshire—which means Spot has more right to be here than we do.”
“Nevertheless, we will not be cohabiting.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“As soon as the doors were closed, Amelia went to her sister with her hands raised. At first Cam thought she intended to shake her, but instead Amelia pulled Beatrix close, her shoulders trembling. She could barely breathe for laughing.
“Bea … you did it on purpose, didn’t you?… I couldn’t believe my eyes … that blasted lizard running along the table…”
“I had to do something,” the girl explained in a muffled voice. “Leo was behaving badly—I didn’t understand what he was saying, but I saw Lord Westcliff’s face—”
“Oh … oh…” Amelia choked with giggles. “Poor Westcliff … one moment he’s def-fending the local population from Leo’s tyranny, and then Spot comes s-slithering past the bread plates…”
“Where is Spot?” Twisting away from her sister, Beatrix approached Cam, who deposited the lizard in her outstretched palms. “Thank you, Mr. Rohan. You have very quick hands.”
“So I’ve been told.” He smiled at her.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Bea … you did it on purpose, didn’t you?… I couldn’t believe my eyes … that blasted lizard running along the table…”
“I had to do something,” the girl explained in a muffled voice. “Leo was behaving badly—I didn’t understand what he was saying, but I saw Lord Westcliff’s face—”
“Oh … oh…” Amelia choked with giggles. “Poor Westcliff … one moment he’s def-fending the local population from Leo’s tyranny, and then Spot comes s-slithering past the bread plates…”
“Where is Spot?” Twisting away from her sister, Beatrix approached Cam, who deposited the lizard in her outstretched palms. “Thank you, Mr. Rohan. You have very quick hands.”
“So I’ve been told.” He smiled at her.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Their conversation was checked by the reappearance of Beatrix. “Spot’s gone,” she reported. “He seemed quite happy to take up residence at Stony Cross Park.”
Seeming relieved by her sister’s return, Amelia went to her, brushed at the crumbs of soil on her sleeve, and straightened her hair bow. “Good luck to Spot. Are you ready to go back in to supper, dear?”
“No.”
“Oh, everything will be fine. Just remember to look chastened while I grimace in an authoritative manner, and I’m certain they’ll allow us to stay through dessert.”
― Mine Till Midnight
Seeming relieved by her sister’s return, Amelia went to her, brushed at the crumbs of soil on her sleeve, and straightened her hair bow. “Good luck to Spot. Are you ready to go back in to supper, dear?”
“No.”
“Oh, everything will be fine. Just remember to look chastened while I grimace in an authoritative manner, and I’m certain they’ll allow us to stay through dessert.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“I don’t want to go back,” Beatrix moaned. “It’s so dreadfully dull, and I don’t like all that rich food, and I’ve been sitting beside the vicar who only wants to talk about his own religious writings. It’s so redundant to quote oneself, don’t you think?”
“It does bear a certain odor of immodesty,” Amelia agreed with a grin, smoothing her sister’s dark hair. “Poor Bea. You don’t have to go back, if you don’t wish it. I’m sure one of the servants can recommend a nice place for you to wait until supper is done. The library, perhaps.”
“Oh, thank you.” Beatrix heaved a sigh of relief. “But who will create another distraction if Leo starts being disagreeable again?”
“I will,” Cam assured her gravely. “I can be shocking at a moment’s notice.”
“I’m not surprised,” Amelia said. “In fact, I’m fairly certain you would enjoy it.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“It does bear a certain odor of immodesty,” Amelia agreed with a grin, smoothing her sister’s dark hair. “Poor Bea. You don’t have to go back, if you don’t wish it. I’m sure one of the servants can recommend a nice place for you to wait until supper is done. The library, perhaps.”
“Oh, thank you.” Beatrix heaved a sigh of relief. “But who will create another distraction if Leo starts being disagreeable again?”
“I will,” Cam assured her gravely. “I can be shocking at a moment’s notice.”
“I’m not surprised,” Amelia said. “In fact, I’m fairly certain you would enjoy it.”
― Mine Till Midnight
“Wat is een Nederlander? Wie zich als Nederlander identificeert, onderscheidt zich in taal, kleding of eetgewoonten van de Belgen, de Duitsers, de Engelsen enzovoort. De verschillen met andere naties bakenen het 'wezen' van de Nederlander af. Nationaliteit wordt gedefinieerd door een 'buitengrens'.
Maar Nederland kent ook een 'binnengrens', want welke Nederlander is de ware Nederlander? Erasmus? Rembrandt? Drees? Beatrix? Cruijff? De vacature is door de eeuwen heen door steeds andere personen en groepen vervuld. Zijn het de arbeiders die het land hebben opgebouwd? De middenstanders als motor van de economie? Is het de dominee-koopman? De ware Nederlander verandert voortdurend van gezicht.”
―
Maar Nederland kent ook een 'binnengrens', want welke Nederlander is de ware Nederlander? Erasmus? Rembrandt? Drees? Beatrix? Cruijff? De vacature is door de eeuwen heen door steeds andere personen en groepen vervuld. Zijn het de arbeiders die het land hebben opgebouwd? De middenstanders als motor van de economie? Is het de dominee-koopman? De ware Nederlander verandert voortdurend van gezicht.”
―
All Quotes
|
My Quotes
|
Add A Quote
Browse By Tag
- Love Quotes 97.5k
- Life Quotes 76k
- Inspirational Quotes 73k
- Humor Quotes 44k
- Philosophy Quotes 29.5k
- Inspirational Quotes Quotes 27k
- God Quotes 26k
- Truth Quotes 23.5k
- Wisdom Quotes 23.5k
- Romance Quotes 23k
- Poetry Quotes 22k
- Death Quotes 20k
- Happiness Quotes 18.5k
- Life Lessons Quotes 18.5k
- Hope Quotes 18k
- Faith Quotes 18k
- Quotes Quotes 16.5k
- Inspiration Quotes 16.5k
- Spirituality Quotes 15k
- Religion Quotes 15k
- Motivational Quotes 15k
- Writing Quotes 15k
- Relationships Quotes 14.5k
- Life Quotes Quotes 14k
- Love Quotes Quotes 14k
- Success Quotes 13.5k
- Time Quotes 12.5k
- Motivation Quotes 12k
- Science Quotes 11.5k
- Motivational Quotes Quotes 11.5k