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

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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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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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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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Torn between the impulse to stroke his head, and the urge to cave it in with a rock, I did neither.
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It would ha' been a good deal easier, if ye'd only been a witch.
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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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......what I was born does not matter, only what I will make of myself, only what I will become.
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Not for the first time, I reflected that intimacy and romance are not synonymous.
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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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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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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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I dinna know what's a sadist. And if I forgive you for this afternoon, I reckon you'll forgive me, too, as soon as ye can sit down again. As for my pleasure... His lip twitched. I said I would have to punish you. I did not say I wasna going to enjoy it. He crooked a finger at me. Come here.
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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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Everyone can lie, young Roger, given cause enough. Even me. It's only that it's harder for those of us who live in glass faces we have to think up our lies ahead of time.
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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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You could tell from the books whether a library was meant for show or not. Books that were used had an open, interested feel to them, even if closed and neatly lined up on a shelf in strict order with their fellows. You felt as though the book took as much interest in you as you did in it and was willing to help when you reached for it.
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He touched the rough crucifix that lay against his chest and whispered to the moving air, Lord, that she might be safe, she and my children. Then turned his cheek to her reaching hand and touched her throught the veils of time.
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So remember it, lad. If your head thinks up mischief, your backside's going to pay for it. Brian Fraser to young Jamie
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Blood of my Blood, he whispered, and bone of my bone. You carry me within ye, Claire, and ye canna leave me now, no matter what happens, You are mine, always, if ye will it or no, if ye want me or nay. Mine, and I wilna let ye go.
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No wonder he was so good with horses, I thought blearily, feeling his fingers rubbing gently behind my ears, listening to the soothing, incomprehensible speech. If I were a horse, I’d let him ride me anywhere.
Diana Gabaldon