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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.
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
Moving
Touched
Crucifix
Hands
Reaching
Cheek
Might
Lays
Whispered
Children
Turned
Veils
Time
Air
Chest
Safe
Cheeks
Hand
Chests
Lord
Rough
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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.
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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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To see the years touch ye gives me joy, he whispered, for it means that ye live.
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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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There aren't any answers, only choices
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Through eons of living in a land so poor there was little to eat but oats, they had as usual converted necessity into a virtue, and insisted that they liked the stuff.
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D'ye ken that the only time I am without pain is in your bed, Sassenach? When I take ye, when I lie in your arms-my wounds are healed, then, my scars forgotten.
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With that height, plus a face of an ugliness so transcendant as to be grotesquely beautiful, it was obvious why she had embraced a religious life--Christ was the only man from whom she might expect embrace in return.
Diana Gabaldon
There comes a turning point in intense physical struggle where one abandons oneself to a profligate usage of strength and bodily resource, ignoring the costs until the struggle is over. Women find this point in childbirth men in battle.
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What underlies great science is what underlies great art, whether it is visual or written, and that is the ability to distinguish patterns out of chaos.
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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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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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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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Not for the first time, I reflected that intimacy and romance are not synonymous.
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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?
Diana Gabaldon
Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul
Diana Gabaldon
It would ha' been a good deal easier, if ye'd only been a witch.
Diana Gabaldon
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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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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An Englishman thinks a hundred miles is a long way and American thinks a hundred years is a long time
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