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It has always been forever, for me, Sassenach

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
Sassenach
Forever
Always

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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.
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He gave you to me, she said, so low I could hardly hear her. Now I have to give you back to him, Mama.
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I'll scream! Likely. If not before, certainly during. I expect they'll hear ye at the next farm you've got good lungs.
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If she was broken, she would slash him with her jagged edges, reckless as a drunkard with a shattered bottle.
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Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again. “I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.
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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
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I shook so that it was some time before I realized that he was shaking too, and for the same reason. I don't know how long we sat there on the dusty floor, crying in each others arms with the longing of twenty years spilling down our faces.
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It wasn't a thing I had consciously missed, but having it now reminded me of the joy of it that drowsy intimacy in which a man's body is accessible to you as your own, the strange shapes and textures of it like a sudden extension of your own limbs.
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Sassenach. He had called me that from the first the Gaelic word for outlander, a stranger. An Englishman. First in jest, then in affection.
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Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul
Diana Gabaldon
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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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When you're reading, you're not where you are you're in the book. By the same token, I can write anywhere.
Diana Gabaldon
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Not for the first time, I reflected that intimacy and romance are not synonymous.
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The most irritating thing about cliches, I decided, was how frequently they were true.
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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.
Diana Gabaldon
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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?
Diana Gabaldon
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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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Only you, he said, so softly I could barely hear him. To worship ye with my body, give ye all the service of my hands. To give ye my name, and all my heart and soul with it. Only you. Because ye will not let me lie--and yet ye love me.
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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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You dinna need to understand me, Sassenach, he said quietly. So long as you love me.
Diana Gabaldon