Quotes About Embrace

And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong; he was as big as she'd imagined—and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope.

Fiercely to cherish, softly to guard.

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.

Well, I'll tell ye, Sassenach, 'graceful' is possibly not the first word that springs to mind at the 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.

You can…call me Da," he said. His voice was husky; he stopped and cleared his throat. "If—if ye want to, I mean, Da. Is that Gaelic?" He smiled back, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly. "No. It's only…simple." And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong;—and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope.

My body is out from my control," he said softly. "She was the half of my body—the very half of my soul.

And sometimes, I whispered to him, I wish it could be you inside me. That I could take you into me and keep you safe always. His hand, large and warm, lifted slowly from the bed and cupped the small round swell of my belly, sheltering and caressing. You do, my own, he said. You do.

turned me away from him and fitted himself to my back so we lay nested together.

He came through the front door just as I barreled into the hallway, and grabbed me round the waist, kissing me with sun-dusty enthusiasm and sandpaper whiskers.

We stood wrapped in each other's arms, taking comfort from our family below, yearning for the others we might never see again, at once at home and homeless, balanced on a knife edge of danger and uncertainty. But together.

You said you could tear me limb from limb without touching me, I said. You were right, damn you. I am sorry, he whispered again, but this time he reached for me, and held me tight against him. That I loved you? Don't be sorry for that, I said, my voice half muffled in his shirt. Not ever.

Then I laid my head upon his chest and gave my dreams up to his keeping.

He reached forward then and took me in his arms, held me close for a moment, the breath of snow and ashes cold around us. Then he kissed me, released me, and I took a deep breath of cold air, harsh with the scent of burning.

It starts out the same, but then, after a moment," he said, speaking softly, "suddenly it's as though I've a living flame in my arms." His touch grew firmer, outlining my lips and caressing the line of my jaw. "And I want only to throw myself into it and be consumed." I

Mo nighean donn," he whispered, "mo chridhe. My brown lass, my heart." "Come to me. Cover me. Shelter me, a bhean, heal me. Burn with me, as I burn for you.

Diana Gabaldon

He grabbed her and held on, thinking that nothing in his life had ever felt better than the weight of her against him and the taste of her mouth, in spite of the fact that she'd plainly eaten onions for lunch

Gently, he turned me away from him and fitted himself to my back so we lay nested together. His hand cupped my breast, not in invitation or demand, but because it seemed to belong there.

I was born for you, I simply said, and held out my arms to him.

Da," she said, and felt the smile bloom easily this time, unmarred by tears. "Da. Is that Gaelic?" He smiled back, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly. "No. It's only … simple." And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong; he was as big as she'd imagined—and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope.

For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary. It is all. It is undying, And it is enough.

his mouth was soft and warm and I moved instinctively toward him. I was vaguely conscious of noises, Scottish whoops of enthusiasm and encouragement from the spectators, but really noticed nothing beyond the enfolding warm solidness. Sanctuary.

fears in the strength of his arm around

Here an ancient oriel window opened glassless to the sky, and the light of the hunter's moon washed us in silver. We lay clasped together, damp skins cooling in the winter air, waiting for our racing hearts to slow and breath to return to our heaving bodies.