Quotes About Communication

Life among academics had taught me that a well-expressed opinion is usually better than a badly expressed fact, so far as professional advancement goes. A

You mean to tell me that you married me out of love?" I demanded. He raised his eyebrows, struggling to draw in breath. "Have I not…just been…saying so?

I have been in perturbation of mind for days, debating whether I shall write it, and now, having written, whether to send it.

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.

She gave him a long, level look. "And how does thee know that the Lord has not spoken to me, as well?" His eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. "I am happy for thee. What did He say?" "He said, 'Keep thy fat-headed brother from committing suicide, for I will require his blood at thy hand,' " she snapped, slapping his hand away from the bridle. "If we are going to join the army, Denny, let us go and

Washington knew what he was about, though; he listened more than he talked, and when he said something, it was to the point.

He had a dim memory of his father telling him that a secret remains a secret only so long as just one person knew it.

You can't possibly have said what I think you said." "Indeed I did," he said, his normal dry edge returning.

My father," he said abruptly. "Pa—Lord John, I mean. He knew—knows?" "Yes." Thin ice again. I didn't think he had any idea that Lord John had married Isobel principally for his sake—and Jamie's—but didn't want him going anywhere near the question of Lord John's motives.

There are things that I canna tell you, at least not yet. And I'll ask nothing of ye that ye canna give me. But what I would ask of ye—when you do tell me something, let it be the truth. And I'll promise ye the same. We have nothing now between us, save—respect, perhaps. And I think that respect has maybe room for secrets, but not for lies. Do ye agree?" He

horse," he repeated, drying his hand on his breeches. "You can't make a horse do anything. You see what he's going to do and then you tell him to do that, and he thinks it's your idea, so next time you tell him

Jamie," I said, suddenly thinking of something, "do you speak German?" "Eh? Oh, aye

He'd told Jamie Fraser the truth—the whole bloody truth—and

The removal of his infected adenoids and tonsils had not cured Keziah's deafness, but had improved it markedly. He

I'm sorry," I added. "Really, Jamie, I couldn't help it.

They had learned not to expect him to talk until he had shaved; words came hard after a month's solitude. Not that he could think of nothing to say; it was more that the words inside formed a logjam in his throat, battling each other to get out in the short time he had. He needed those few minutes of careful grooming to pick and choose, what he would say first and to whom.

Frank loved me," I said slowly. "But there were … pieces of me, that he didn't know what to do with. Things about me that he didn't understand, or maybe that frightened him." I glanced at Jamie. "Not you.

You don't suppose she'd try to—to get Ian back?" "She didna want him when she put him out of her house," Jamie pointed out. "Why would she now?" I looked at him over the rim of my second—or possibly third—glass. "How little you know of women, my love," I said, shaking my head in mock dismay. "And after all these years.

He hadn't seen—or heard from—Grey since that day. Had the man been nursing a grudge all this time and finally decided to put paid to Jamie Fraser's account, once and for all? It was the most likely explanation—and unforgivable things had been said on both sides. Worse, both of them had meant the things they said, and both of them knew it. No excuse of hot blood speaking—though, in all justice, his own blood had boiled, and Ã¢â'¬Â¦

There are things ye maybe canna tell me, he had said. I willna ask ye, or force ye. But when ye do tell me something, let it be the truth. There is nothing between us now but respect, and respect has room for secrets, I think—but not for lies. I

You will know what to say, though; you always do.

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

moments and revert to his normal swagger and talk, you

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.