Quotes About Affection

We didn't always get on, you know that, but…yes. We respected each other; that counts for a lot. And we liked each other, in spite of everything. Yes

Tha gràdh agam ort, mo chridhe

You never knew, when you took farewell of someone, whether it might be the last time. The least you could do was say you loved them—and she wished she had. She pressed her fingertips to her lips and, as they swung out to go around the first curve, threw a kiss to the distant figure, still standing in the road.

The impulse to touch a sleeping child never fades, no matter that the child is a good deal larger than her mother, and a woman - if a young one - in her own right.

But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.

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

But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul, And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.

squeezed her heart. Claire murmured something

What is it, love? I whispered. Jamie, I do love you. I know it, he said quietly. I do know it, my own. Let me tell ye in your sleep how much I love you. For there's no so much I can be saying to ye while ye wake, but the same poor words, again and again. While ye sleep in my arms, I can say things to ye that would be daft and silly waking, and your dreams will know the truth of them. Go back to sleep, mo duinne.

It's no just the bedding, ye ken," he said, drawing back a little at last. His eyes looked down at me, a soft deep blue like the warm tropic sea. "No," I said, touching his cheek. "It isn't." "To have ye with me again—to talk wi' you—to know I can say anything, not guard my words or hide my thoughts—

I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine

Let me tell ye in your sleep how much I love you. For there's no so much I can be saying to ye while ye wake, but the same poor words, again and again. While ye sleep in my arms, I can say things to ye that would be daft and silly waking, and your dreams will know the truth of them. Go

Can I decline a nymph so divine? Her voice like a flute is dulcis; Her oculus bright, her manus white And soft, when I tacto, her pulse is. O how bella, my puella I'll kiss in secula seculorum; If I've luck, sir, she's my uxor, O dies benedictorum.

No matter what," he whispered, "no matter where. No matter whether you're there to hear or not—I'll always sing for you.

Well, I'll tell ye, Sassenach, 'graceful' is possibly not the first word that springs to mind at thought of you." He slipped an arm behind me, one hand large and warm around my silk-clad shoulder. "But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.

He wrapped his arms about his

If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you," he said. "What?" she said, startled. "Who said that?" "Should I be hurt that you didn't think it was me?" he said, laughing. "It's A. A. Milne. From Winnie-the-Pooh, if you can believe it.

Then let amorous kisses dwell On our lips, begin and tell A Thousand, and a Hundred, score An Hundred, and a Thousand more.

I could know ye all my life, I think, and always love you. And

And Ã¢â'¬Â¦ I couldn't bear to be alone and I couldn't bear for him to be alone and I more or less flung myself at him because I very much needed someone to touch me just then.

Claire. To feel the small bones of your neck beneath my hands, and that fine, thin skin on your breasts and your arms Ã¢â'¬Â¦ Lord, you are my wife, whom I cherish and I love wi' all my life, and still I want to kiss ye hard enough to bruise your tender lips, and see the marks of my fingers on your skin.

When the day shall come, that we do part," he said softly, and turned to look at me, "if my last words are not 'I love you'—ye'll ken it was because I didna have time." This book is for my Sister, Theresa Gabaldon

Jamie," I said. "I'm tired. Will you take me to bed?

What hurts you cleaves my heart," he said softly. "Ye ken that, aye?