Quotes About Quote

Fois shìorruidh thoir dha," he echoed. God rest his soul.

Oh, yes," I said. "My favorite was one I picked up from a Yank. Man named Williamson, from New York, I believe. He said it every time I changed his dressing." "What was it?" " 'Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,' " I said, and dropped the sugar lump neatly into Frank's coffee.

Je ne suis que le laird, pas Dieu. Mais la frontière est parfois ténue entre la justice et la barbarie. J'espère simplement que je suis du bon côté. Je

Knowing him, I thought his main feeling would have been gratification that the wing of Persian antiquities next door had escaped.

It was a hound of some sort, black and disproportionately long-bodied, with legs so stumpy that they appeared to have been amputated. With large, liquid eyes and a sturdy long tail in constant motion, it resembled nothing so much as and exceedingly amiable sausage.

take some attention, aye?" He drew the sticky tip

Open your eyes and tell me yourself, Sassenash, said a deep urgent voice somewhere close.

peering at the crest, with its faded leopard couchant

I canna think why the good Lord should waste hair like that on a man.

Well, ye're kind, too," he said, considering. "Verra kind. Though ye are inclined to do it on your own terms. Not that that's bad, mind," he added

heads that edged the huge fireplace, and I

my head from his shoulder and said, "Why did you ask me that

The grin visible beneath the crook of his arm widened still further. "Sassenach?" I stopped, dirk still in my hand. "What?" "I'll die a happy man.

Why, the lad's, of course." She turned to face me, small mouth mocking and green eyes bright with mischief. "Young Jamie.

sedition, was it? I was aware that smuggling was nearly

a fine coaching inn there—though not much else." Dougal looked surprised

She may be a good whore, but she's no hand at cards.

What is pulpo?" he asked, returning to the office and sitting down opposite Malcolm. "Octopus," Malcolm replied, emerging from the folds of a linen towel with which he'd been wiping dirt from his face. "Why?" "Just wondered.

For in one stroke, I am become a gentleman of leisure, non?

Bloody fucking Ian Murray. Fucking Scot and sometime Mohawk.

Do him no harm to keep his breeches on for one night. And they do say that abstinence makes the heart grow firmer, no?" "Absence," I said, dodging the spoon for a moment. "And fonder. If anything's growing firmer from abstinence, it wouldn't be his heart.

had no notion how much resemblance there was between what he was doing, and the original beliefs of the Iroquois

And if Time is anything akin to God, I suppose that Memory must be the Devil.

This was not significantly assuaged by the reappearance of John, followed by the Duke of Pardloe. Jamie said something remarkably creative in Gàidhlig, and I gave him a look of startled appreciation.