Quotes from Diana Gabaldon

He would feel it begin to slip away when he left—that thin veneer of humanity—more of it gone with each step away from the farmhouse. Sometimes he would keep the illusion of warmth and family all the way to the cave where he hid; other times it would disappear almost at once, torn away by a chill wind, rank and acrid with the scent of burning.

I had a sudden memory of the waulking shed, where the women sat in two facing rows, barefooted and bare-armed in their oldest clothes, bracing themselves against the walls as they thrust with their feet against the long, sodden worm of woolen cloth, battering it into the tight, felted weave that would repel Highland mists and even light rain, keeping the wearer safe from the chill.

Fair enough," I whispered, and drained the cup, the shreds of tea leaf strong and bitter on my tongue.

I have Ã¢â'¬Â¦ an understanding. In England." His understanding with James Fraser was that if he were ever to lay a hand on the man or speak his heart, Fraser would break his neck instantly. It was, however, certainly an understanding, and clear as Waterford crystal.

No," I said. The grief of the night before had softened, but the weight of it was still there. My voice was low and husky, because my throat was halfway closed, where the hand of sorrow clutched me unawares.

Still, I reflected, there was no way of imagining beforehand what having a child was like – no power of the mind was equal to the knowledge of just what the birth of a child could do, wresting lives and wrenching hearts.

There's nothing here for ye! Nothing save danger." "Is there really nothing here for me?" I had asked. Too honorable to speak, he had answered nonetheless, and I had made my choice.

moments and revert to his normal swagger and talk, you

by the cook, with a list of

But now and then, I saw suddenly and clearly the magnitude of the gulf I had crossed—the dizzying loss of the world I had been born to—and felt very much alone. And afraid.

I loved Frank," I said quietly, not looking at Bree. "I loved him a lot. But by that time, Jamie was my heart and the breath of my body.

As she turned to signal to her father, she caught sight of Mr. Wylie himself, escorting a lady into the stable block. A gleam of gold silk—wait, it was her mother! Claire's pale face turned momentarily in her direction, but her attention was fixed on something Wylie was saying, and she didn't notice her daughter on the path

Faith is as powerful a force as science," he concluded, voice soft in the darkness, "—but far more dangerous." We

I lay still, wondering exactly what was the matter with me. Or rather, not what, but why. I knew by now what it was, all right; it was jealousy. I was indeed jealous; an emotion I hadn't felt for some years, and was appalled to feel now. I

Jamie lingered awkwardly a moment, and then, as though suddenly making up his mind to it, stepped forward and bending down, cupped Grey's face between his hands.

oh, wait." Turning, he seized the wig he'd taken off earlier from his desk and thrust it into Grey's hands. "Disguise," he said, and smiled briefly. "You rather take the eye, John. Best if people don't notice you on the street." He snatched up the hat and crammed it on his own bare head, then unlocked the door and pulled it open, impatiently gesturing Grey ahead of him.

what he had learned himself by pain and grace? That only by forgiveness could she forget – and that forgiveness was not a single act, but a matter of constant practice.

No, that's all right," she said, and then yawned involuntarily, gaping so widely that she startled herself and clapped a hand belatedly over her mouth. "Oh, dear. I do beg your pardon, Mrs. Fraser." That made me smile; she had John's elegant manners—perhaps Hal did, too, when he wasn't engaging in undiluted bastardliness.

took a small sip

It grieves me to tell you," Jamie said, and meant it. "Sixty years from this time, the Tsalagi will be taken from their lands, removed to a new place. Many will die on this journey, so that the path they tread will be called Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â He groped for the word for "tears," did not find it, and ended, "the trail where they wept.

Don't fart above your arsehole.

God, your arse looks fine, wi' the wet linen of your shift clinging to it. It goes all transparent, and I can see the weight of your buttocks, like great smooth round melons—

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." My

Lord John had been nothing but courtesy itself to me. More than that, he had been intelligent, thoughtful—thoroughly charming, in fact. And listening to him making intelligent, thoughtful, charming conversation with Jamie knotted my insides and made me clench my hands under cover of the quilt. You are an idiot, I told myself savagely.