Quotes from Diana Gabaldon

he found that after prolonged contact with Claire and her opinions, he had much less trust in physicians that heretofore - and he hadn't had much to begin with.

He had crossed the room with no notion what he might say or do - he had no knowledge of the language of condolence, no skill at social small talk; his metier was business and politics. And yet, when his hostess had introduced them and left, he found himself still holding the hand he had kissed, looking into soft brown eyes that drowned his soul. And without further thought or hesitation had said, 'God help me, I am in love with you.

He shook his head, absorbed in one of his feats of memory, those brief periods of scholastic rapture where he lost touch with the world around him, absorbed completely in conjuring up knowledge from all its sources.

Sassenach," he said against my shoulder, a moment later. "Mm? "Who in God's name is John Wayne?" "You are," I said. "Go to sleep.

He thought of such places in a way that had no words, only recognizing one when he came to it. He might have called it holy, save that the feel of such a place had nothing to do with church or saint. It was simply a place he belonged to be, and that was sufficient.

I didna say I wanted an apology, did I? If I recall aright, what I said was 'Bite me again.

I regarded him gently over my own bowl of stew. He was very large, solid, and beautifully formed. And if he was a bit battered by circumstance, that merely added to his charm. You're a very hard person to kill, I think, I said. That's a great comfort to me.

His own eyes were soft and dreamy, cloudy as a trout pool in the rain.

I want to take ye to bed. In my bed. And I mean to spend the rest of the day thinking what to do wit ye once I got ye there. So wee Archie can just go and play at marbles with his bollucks, aye?

To fight on the winning side was one thing; to survive, quite another.

He pressed me firmly to him, and I could feel that he was more than ready to get on with the business at hand. With some surprise, I realized that I was ready too. In fact, whether it was the result of the late hour, the wine, his own attractiveness, or simple deprivation, I wanted him quite badly.

Do ye want me to be a horse, a bear, or a dog?" "A hedgehog." "A hedgehog? And just how does a hedgehog make love?" he demanded. No, I thought. I won't. I will not. But I did. "Very carefully," I replied, giggling helplessly. So now we know just how old that one is, I thought.

Dije: «Señor, si alguna vez en mi vida he tenido valor, dámelo ahora. Permíteme ser lo bastante valiente para no caer de rodillas y rogarle que se quede». –Jamie Fraser.

I had always heretofore assumed that the tendency of eighteenth-century ladies to swoon was due to tight stays; now I rather thought it might be due to the idiocy of eighteenth-century men.

It wasn't the risk, I said, flicking my toes at a big black-and-white splotched carp. Or not entirely. It was—well, it was partly fear, but mostly it was that I—I couldn't leave Jamie. I shrugged helplessly. I—simply couldn't.

A Highlander in full regalia is an impressive sight—any Highlander, no matter how old, ill-favored, or crabbed in appearance. A tall, straight-bodied, and by no means ill-favored young Highlander at close range is breath-taking.

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.

There was only one small probelm. It wasn't Frank I reached for, deep in the night, waking out of sleep. It wasn't his smooth, lithe body that walked my dreams a roused me so that I came awake moist and gasping, my heart pounding from the half-remembered touch. But I would never touch that man again. Jamie, I whispered. Oh Jamie.

And, Sassenach, he whispered, your face is my heart.

Do you know how rare such a thing is?" he asked quietly. "That peculiar sort of mutual passion?" The one-sided kind was common enough.

I am thinking that you're verra beautiful, Sassenach, he said softly. Maybe if one has a taste for gooseflesh on a large scale, I said tartly, stepping out of the tub and reaching for the cup. He grinned suddenly at me, teeth flashing white in the dimness of the cellar. Oh, aye, he said. Well, you're speaking to the only man in Scotland who has a terrible cockstand at sight of a plucked chicken.

Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop. The line from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland drifted through my mind, and I smiled. Good advice, I supposed – but only if you happened to know where the beginning was, and I didn't quite.

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.

I'm a man, Sassenach," he said, very softly. "If I thought there was a choice Ã¢â'¬Â¦ then I maybe couldna do it. Ye dinna need to be so brave about things if ye ken ye canna help it, aye?" He looked at me then, with a faint smile. "Like a woman in childbirth, aye? Ye must do it, and it makes no difference if you're afraid—ye'll do it. It's only when ye ken ye can say no that it takes courage.