Quotes About Recognition

Pensai che se Teddy fosse stato lì al mio fianco, anche lui avrebbe visto il ratto. L'avrebbe visto eccome. E vi dirò un'altra cosa. Teddy? Lui avrebbe applaudito.

One of humanity's most common character traits is ingratitude.

Very few of us can or will be famous. But all of us can be significant.

A person is a person because s/he recognizes others as persons.

Ultimately, forgiveness is a choice we make, and the ability to forgive others comes from the recognition that we are all flawed and all human. We all have made mistakes and harmed others. We will again. We find it easier to practice forgiveness when we can recognize that the roles could have been reversed.

He blinked , and his eyes moved at last from her face, slowly taking in her appearance, and- with what seemed to her a new and horrified awareness- her height. My God, he croaked. You're huge.

Ian—is that by chance Ian Murray?" Grey asked, but then answered himself. "I suppose it must be; how many Mohawks can there be named Ian?

You're real," he whispered. I had thought him pale already. Now all vestiges of color drained from his face.

The woman crosses the room, and it is only when she is directly in front of us that I am certain about who she is. She is dressed in a pelisse fashionable among women half her age, and the feather in her hat is an extraordinary shade of blue. Outside, a young man is waiting at her coach. Passersby will suspect that he is her son, but anyone who has ever been acquainted with her will know better.

Is that you, Geordie?" he asked, not turning around. He was dressed in shirt and breeches, and had a small tool of some kind in his hand, with which he was doing something to the innards of the press. "Took ye long enough. Did ye get the—" "It isn't Geordie," I said. My voice was higher than usual. "It's me," I said.

Movement at the door of the cabin, and a small figure that I recognized as Amy Higgins appeared. The tall woman pulled off her hat and waved it, her long red hair streaming out like a banner in the wind. "Hello, the house!" she called, laughing. Then I was flying down the hill, with Jamie just before me, arms flung wide, the two of us flying together on that same wind.

The Continental army got more generals than they got private soldiers, these days. An officer lives through more 'n two battles, they make him some kind of general on the spot. Now, gettin' any pay for it, that's a different kettle of fish.

If ever I'd seen a confirmed bachelor, I would

He had enough experience in the business of prayer to recognize an answer when it showed up, though, however unwelcome.

The English officer was coming back toward the cabin, passing within a few feet of me. I glanced up, and my hands froze. He was tall, slender but broad-shouldered, and I would have known that long stride, that unself-conscious grace, and that arrogant tilt of the head anywhere. He paused, frowning, and turned his head to survey the littered field. His nose was straight as a knife blade, just that tiny bit too long.

He remembered Jamie's face as they rode in to Helwater, alight as they saw the women on the lawn—with William.

Something about the ragged beggar seemed faintly familiar, too.

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

He took my arm, and bowed formally. "And may I have the pleasure to present to you my wife, Claire?" he said aloud, shifting effortlessly into French. "Claire?" The Governor looked wildly at me. "Claire?" "Er, yes," I said, hoping he wasn't going to faint. He looked very much as though he might, though I had no idea why the revelation of my Christian name ought to affect him so strongly.

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

friend's face that something terrible had happened. The fact that he was seeing Jamie Fraser's face at all was evidence enough of that, never mind the look of the man.

You aren't Frank," I whispered. "I am not," he agreed, surveying me with considerable interest. "Though I've a cousin of that name. I doubt, though, that it's he you have confused me with, madam. We do not resemble one another greatly.

Oh," I said, very touched. "Thank you.

recognized, with a fresh burst of rage, the impulse