A Monstrous Regiment of Women (Mary Russell #2)

by Laurie R. King

Water damned up becomes stale, dank. Love not given out becomes dead and slimy. When we express our love, when we act as conduits for divine love, then the love within us is continually renewed, refreshed, restored.’

A woman’s guess is much more accurate than a man’s certainty.

For me, for always, the paramount organ of passion was the mind. Unnatural, unbalanced, perhaps, but it was true: Without intellect, there could be no love.