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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.

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
Maybe
Deceit
Secret
Secrets
Lying
Save
Nothing
Lies
Think
Room
Thinking
Perhaps
Rooms
Respect
Outlander

More quotes by Diana Gabaldon

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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.
Diana Gabaldon
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Harmless as a setting dove, he agreed. I'm too hungry to be a threat to anything but breakfast. Let a stray bannock come within reach, though, and I'll no answer for the consequences.
Diana Gabaldon
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That's not precisely what I had in mind. Jamie, I had found out by accident a few days previously, had never mastered the art of winking one eye. Instead, he blinked solemnly, like a large red owl.
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.
Diana Gabaldon
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Not for the first time, I reflected that intimacy and romance are not synonymous.
Diana Gabaldon
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I didn't want to tell the story of what makes two people come together, although that's a theme of great power and universality. I wanted to find out what it takes for two people to stay together for fifty years -- or more. I wanted to tell not the story of courtship, but the story of marriage.
Diana Gabaldon
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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.
Diana Gabaldon
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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
Diana Gabaldon
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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.
Diana Gabaldon
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Scots have long memories, and they're not the most forgiving of people.
Diana Gabaldon
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Your face is my heart
Diana Gabaldon
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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.
Diana Gabaldon
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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
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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.
Diana Gabaldon
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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.
Diana Gabaldon
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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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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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Sassenach. He had called me that from the first the Gaelic word for outlander, a stranger. An Englishman. First in jest, then in affection.
Diana Gabaldon
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Oh, womanly sympathy, love AND food? I said, laughing. Don't want a lot, do you?
Diana Gabaldon
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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.
Diana Gabaldon