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While the Lord might insist that vengeance was His, no male Highlander of my acquaintance had ever thought it right that the Lord should be left to handle such things without assistance.
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
Lord
Highlander
Left
Vengeance
Thought
Acquaintance
Ever
Insist
Might
Assistance
Without
Male
Right
Males
Things
Handle
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Your face is my heart
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Overall, the library held a hushed exultation, as though the cherished volumes were all singing soundlessly within their covers.
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It has always been forever, for me, Sassenach
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It's only that ye looked so beautiful, wi' the fire on your face, and your hair waving in the wind. I wanted to remember it.
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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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I wouldna cross the road to see a scrawny woman if she was stark naked and dripping wet. ~Jamie Fraser
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Am I a man? To want you so badly that nothing else matters? To see you, and know I would sacrifice honor or family or life itself to lie wi' you, even though ye'd left me?
Diana Gabaldon
But we are here, all of us. And we're here because I love you, more than the life that was mine. Because I believed you loved me the same way...will you tell me that's not true? No, he said after a moment, so softly I could barely hear him. His hand tightened harder on mine. No, I willna tell ye that. Not ever, Claire.
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It was in a way a comforting idea if there was all the time in the world, then the happenings of a given moment became less important.
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For I had come back, and I dreamed once more in the cool air of the Highlands. And the voice of my dream still echoed through ears and heart, repeated with the sound of Brianna's sleeping breath. You are mine, it had said. Mine. And I will not let you go.
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Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well.
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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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Why, what's the matter wi' the poor child? she demanded of Jamie. Has she had an accident o' some sort? No, it's only she's married me, he said, though if ye care to call it an accident, ye may.
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I stood still, vision blurring, and in that moment, I heard my heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.
Diana Gabaldon
This wife you have, Bird said at last, deeply contemplative, did you pay a great deal for her? She cost me almost everything I had, he said, with a wry tone that made the others laugh. But worth it.
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We have nothing now between us, save - respect, perhaps. And I think that respect has maybe room for secrets, but not for lies.
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Well I am still not drunk I straightened up against the pillows as best I could. You told me once that if you could still stand up, you weren't drunk. You aren't standing up. he point out. You are.
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Really rather fascinating, you know,' he confided, and I recognized, with an internal sigh, the song of the scholar, as identifying a sound as the terr-whit! of a thrush.
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People assume that science is a very cold sort of profession, whereas writing novels is a warm and fuzzy intuitive thing. But in fact, they are not at all different.
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I didn't say you shouldn't worry, do you think I don't worry? But no, you probably can't do anything about me.' 'Well, maybe no, Sassenach, and maybe so. But I've lived a long enough time now to think it maybe doesna matter so much-- so long as I can love you.' -Claire & Jamie Fraser
Diana Gabaldon