Quotes About Vulnerability

You'll lie wi' me now," he said quietly. "And I shall use ye as I must. And if you'll have your revenge for it, then take it and welcome, for my soul is yours, in all the black corners of it.

that to sleep, actually sleep with someone did give this sense of intimacy, as though your dreams had flowed out of you to mingle with his and fold you both in a blanket of unconscious knowing. A

have always kent what it is to love a man—be he husband or brother, lover or son. A dangerous business; that's what it is. Men go where they will, they do as they must; it is not a woman's part to bid them stay, nor yet to reproach them for being what they are—or for not coming back.

it was an act of trust to sleep in the presence of another person. If the trust was mutual, simple sleep could bring you closer together than the joining of bodies.

Facing something down doesn't mean you aren't afraid of it," I said dryly. "Usually quite the opposite.

Daddy, Daddy Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â "I'm here," he whispered into Jem's hair, the tears running down his own face. "I'm here, I'm here. Don't be afraid." Jem took a shuddering breath

I had seen even well-established marriages shatter under the strain of smaller things. And those that did not shatter, but were crippled by mistrust

What it is between us, when I touch you, when you … lie with me? Is it always so between a man and a woman?" In spite of his difficulties, I knew exactly what he meant. His gaze was direct, holding my eyes as he waited my answer. I wanted to look away, but couldn't. "There's often something like it," I said, and had to stop and clear my throat. "But no. No, it isn't—usual. I have no idea why, but no. This is … different.

If I'm goin' to lie on my face wi' my buttocks bared, I want the lass under me, not behind me wi' a hatpin!

Okay. This has to be a credible threat. Ergo, we have to have seen (and heard about) the real damage Randall has done to Jamie thus far; we have to be in no doubt whatever that he'd do real damage to Claire. We can't just say, "Oh, he's such a nasty person, you wouldn't believe…" We have to believe, and therefore appreciate, just what Jamie is doing when he trades what's left of his life for Claire's.

Why not? I wanted to say. Because you didn't know her, she was nothing to you. Because you were already hurt. Because it takes something rather special in the way of guts to stand up in front of a crowd and let someone hit you in the face, no matter what your motive.

I relaxed my grip on the knife; she could hardly attack me with a lapful of goat.

My sobs lessened and I began to calm myself, leaning tiredly into the curve of his shoulder. No wonder he was so good with horses, I thought blearily, feeling his fingers rubbing gently behind my ears, listening to the soothing, incomprehensible speech. If I were a horse, I'd let him ride me anywhere.

I had never deflowered anyone before.

fears in the strength of his arm around

No man owns his own life," he said. "Part of you is always in someone else's hands.

I pulled the chemise off

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.

Uncomfortable, but safe

onto the fabric of her shift; I reached out one-handed and tweaked the cloth up to cover her. She put a hand over her breast and pressed hard to stop the milk. "What does he mean to do, though? If he finds him.

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.

I held him to my breast, arms tight around the broad, shaking shoulders, and my own tears fell on his hair, making small dark patches in the ruddy waves. I pressed my cheek against the top of his head, and murmured small incoherent things to him as though he were Brianna. I thought to myself that perhaps it was like surgery—even when an operation is done to repair existing damage, the healing still is painful.

I felt raw and bruised. Severed in some vital part, as always when parted from Jamie for very long, but also as though I had been violently ejected from my home, like a barnacle ripped from its rock and heedlessly tossed into boiling surf.

But here," he said, so softly I could barely hear him, "here in the dark, with you … I have no name.