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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.

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
Take
Scar
Time
Wounds
Bed
Forgotten
Arms
Lying
Sassenach
Pain
Scars
Without
Healed

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She sounded as though love were an unfortunate but unavoidable condition.
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Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul
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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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It would ha' been a good deal easier, if ye'd only been a witch.
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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.
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The overseer wouldna speak to me of Ian, but he told me other things that would curl your hair, if it wasna already curled up like sheep's wool. He glanced at me, and a half-smile lit his face, inspite of his obvious perturbation. Judging by the state of your hair, Sassenach, I should say that it's going to rain verra soon now.
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Then let amourous kisses dwell On our lips, begin and tell A Thousand and a Hundred score A Hundred and a Thousand more
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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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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.
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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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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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Don't be afraid. There's the two of us now.
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The past is gone-the future is not come. And we are here together, you and I.
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The most irritating thing about cliches, I decided, was how frequently they were true.
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There aren't any answers, only choices
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And if Time is anything akin to God, I suppose that Memory must be the Devil.
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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.
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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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