Quote

Do you really think we'll ever-- I do, he said with certainty, not letting me finish. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. I know it, Sassenach, and so do you. You were meant to be a mother, and I surely dinna intend to let anyone else father your children.

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
Else
Finish
Ever
Letting
Children
Surely
Sassenach
Really
Certainty
Leaned
Think
Meant
Forehead
Thinking
Anyone
Foreheads
Father
Kissed
Mother
Intend

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No wonder men got impervious to superficial pain, I thought. It came from this habit of hammering each other incessantly.
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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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Gentle he would be, denied he would not.
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Scots have long memories, and they're not the most forgiving of people.
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So long as my body lives, and yours -- we are one flesh, he whispered, And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours. Claire -- I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you.
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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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Men would eat horse droppings, if ye served them wi' butter.
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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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To see the years touch ye gives me joy, he whispered, for it means that ye live.
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It would ha' been a good deal easier, if ye'd only been a witch.
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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.
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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If I die, he whispered in the dark, dinna follow me. The bairns will need ye. Stay for them. I can wait.
Diana Gabaldon
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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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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.
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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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I'll leave it to you, Sassenach, he said dryly, to imagine what it feels like to arrive unexpectedly in the midst of a brothel, in possession of a verra large sausage.
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It has always been forever, for me, Sassenach
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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.
Diana Gabaldon
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Overall, the library held a hushed exultation, as though the cherished volumes were all singing soundlessly within their covers.
Diana Gabaldon