Quotes from Diana Gabaldon

So long as my body lives, and yours—we are one flesh

said, and though the sun was warm on her back, she shivered, gooseflesh pebbling her

I knew ye weren't a fairy, Auntie Claire!

Man is born to sorrow and whiskers. One of the plagues of Adam.

Do you miss her greatly—your wife?" I felt a bit hesitant about asking, but he didn't seem to find the question intrusive.

I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said

In short, it stood an object of terror and delight!

It wasn't digitalin, but his purpose that sustained him now, lighting him with a glow as though a candle burned behind the waxy skin of his face. I had seen that a few times before, too; the man—or woman—whose will was strong enough to override for a time the imperatives of the body.

I bring ye your vengeance, lady," he said, as quietly as I'd ever heard him speak. He straightened and inclined his head in turn to Mary and Mrs. Munro. "And justice for the wrong done to ye.

She had decided simply to tell the truth, as far as who she was, and what she was doing there. Her mother had said how much she looked like her father; she would have to count on that resemblance to convince them. The Highlanders she had met so far were wary of her looks and strange speech; perhaps the Murrays wouldn't believe her. Then she remembered and touched the pocket of her coat; no, they'd believe her; she had proof, after all. A

and in fact, he was, but…" He cleared his throat, and Ian reached into his pack and handed him a battered flask. Dark as it was, he felt the crude fleur-de-lis under his thumb. It was Ian Mòr's old soldier's flask, which his friend had kept from their time in France as young mercenaries, and the feel of it steadied him.

That was the first time that he ever touched me willingly," he said quietly. "And the last—until this evening, when I gave him the other copy of that miniature.

The headline read RETURNED FROM THE DEAD. Beneath was a picture of Claire Randall, twenty years younger, but looking little different than she did now, bar

If ever you find yourself in the midst of paradox

But there—poor men mun bleed for the rich man's gold, and always will, eh?

She smelled of cinnamon and honey and the clean sweat of exertion, with an undertone of baby-scent, that paradoxical smell composed of spit-up milk, soft feces, and the ultimate cleanliness of fresh, smooth skin.

Twilight was rising beyond the window, from field and wood and river. People spoke of night falling, but it didn't, really. Darkness rose, filling first the hollows, then shadowing the slopes, creeping imperceptibly up tree trunks and fenceposts as night swallowed the ground and rose up to join the greater dark of the star-spread sky above

The English took my sword and dirk away," he said softly. His finger touched the slugs that lay in my palm. "But Tom Gage put a weapon into my hands again, and I think I shall not lay it down.

He grinned wryly at his nephew. "Ye'll amount to something for your mother's sake—if it kills us both.

Jamie had split the Ridge, and the fracture lines were spreading.

a hand on his arm. Bone and muscle were solid, warm under her

stitching, obviously wanting to rub the stinging site, but

She sat still, and listened, and thought she knew what Jamie Fraser had found here. Not loneliness, but solitude. Not suffering, but endurance, the discovery of grim kinship with the rocks and sky. And the finding here of a harsh peace that would transcend bodily discomfort, a healing instead of the wounds of the soul.

Sassenach, ¿sabías que algunos creen que la última persona que yace en un cementerio se convierte en su guardián? Debe montar guardia hasta que muere otra persona y ocupa su lugar... Sólo entonces puede descansar.