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Do ye not understand?he said, in near desparation. I would lay the world at your feet, Claire-and I have nothing to give ye! He honestly thought it mattered.

Diana Gabaldon

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Diana Gabaldon
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: January 11
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Williams
Arizona
Diana J. Gabaldon Perez
Nothing
Mattered
Giving
Near
Would
Lays
World
Honestly
Feet
Understand
Thought
Give
Claire

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Then let amourous kisses dwell On our lips, begin and tell A Thousand and a Hundred score A Hundred and a Thousand more
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D'ye think I don't know? he asked softly. It's me that has the easy part now. For if ye feel for me as I do for you-then I'm asking you to tear out your heart and live without it.
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Any piece of good music is in essence a love song.
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It has always been forever, for me, Sassenach
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Could I but lay my head in your lap, lass. Feel your hand on me, and sleep wi' the scent of you in my bed. Christ, Sassenach. I need ye.
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......what I was born does not matter, only what I will make of myself, only what I will become.
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To see the years touch ye gives me joy, he whispered, for it means that ye live.
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D'ye ken that the only time I am without pain is in your bed, Sassenach? When I take ye, when I lie in your arms-my wounds are healed, then, my scars forgotten.
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An Englishman thinks a hundred miles is a long way and American thinks a hundred years is a long time
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If it was a sin for you to choose me . . . then I would go to the Devil himself and bless him for tempting ye to it.
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And if Time is anything akin to God, I suppose that Memory must be the Devil.
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The overseer wouldna speak to me of Ian, but he told me other things that would curl your hair, if it wasna already curled up like sheep's wool. He glanced at me, and a half-smile lit his face, inspite of his obvious perturbation. Judging by the state of your hair, Sassenach, I should say that it's going to rain verra soon now.
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If I die, he whispered in the dark, dinna follow me. The bairns will need ye. Stay for them. I can wait.
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It would ha' been a good deal easier, if ye'd only been a witch.
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When you're reading, you're not where you are you're in the book. By the same token, I can write anywhere.
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Through eons of living in a land so poor there was little to eat but oats, they had as usual converted necessity into a virtue, and insisted that they liked the stuff.
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I do know it, my own. Let me tell ye in your sleep how much I love you. For there's no so much I can be saying to ye while ye wake, but the same poor words, again and again. While ye sleep in my arms, I can say things to ye that would be daft and silly waking, and your dreams will know the truth of them. Go back to sleep, mo duinne.
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There aren't any answers, only choices
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Hodie mihi cras tibi, said the inscription. Sic transit gloria mundi. My turn today, yours tomorrow. And thus passes away the glory of the world.
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Has he come armed, then?” she asked anxiously. “Has he brought a pistol or a sword?” Ian shook his head, his dark hair lifting wildly in the wind. “Oh, no, Mam!” he said. “It’s worse. He’s brought a lawyer!
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