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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.

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
Still
Weren
Best
Drunk
Wells
Aren
Well
Standing
Told
Stand
Straightened
Point
Pillows
Stills
Pillow

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If I die before I say 'I love you' it's because I didn't have the time.
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That's what marriage is good for it makes a sacrament out of things ye'd otherwise have to confess. Jamie Fraser
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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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The most irritating thing about cliches, I decided, was how frequently they were true.
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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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And Finally I put down the last and the best advice I knew, on growing older. 'Stand up straight and try not to get fat.
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Not for the first time, I reflected that intimacy and romance are not synonymous.
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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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That's for calling your father a fool. It may be true, but it's disrespectful. Brian Fraser to teenage Jamie
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I want to hold you like a kitten in my shirt, and still I want to spread your thighs and plow ye like a rotting bull. I dinna understand myself.
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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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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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As usual, the note occupied less than a page and included neither salutation nor closing, Uncle Hal's opinion being that since the letter had a direction upon it, the intended recipient was obvious, the seal indicated plainly who had written it, and he did not waste his time in writing to fools.
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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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You are my courage, as I am your conscience, he whispered. You are my heart---and I your compassion. We are neither of us whole, alone. Do ye not know that, Sassenach?
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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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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?
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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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It has always been forever, for me, Sassenach
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Character, I think, is the single most important thing in fiction. You might read a book once for its interesting plot—but not twice.
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