Quotes About Love

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.

He tolk both my hands in his, then, and kissed them - the left which still bore the gold ring of my marriage to Frank, and then the right, with his own silver ring.. Da mi basia mille, he whispered, smiling. Give me a thousand kisses. It was the inscription inside my ring, a brief quotation from a love song by Catullus. I bent and gave him one back. Dein mille altera, I said. Then a thousand more.

I put a hand up to cup his cheek, warm and lightly stubbled. I didn't fool myself that this was paradise or even a refuge from the war - wars tended not to stay in one place but moved around, much in the manner of cyclones and even more destructive where they touched down. But for however long it lasted, this was home, and now was peace.

For so many years, he said, for so long, I have been so many things, so many different men.... But here, he said so softly I could barely hear him, here in the dark, with you.... I have no name. I lifted my face toward his, and took the warm breath of him between my own lips. I love you, I said, and did not need to tell him how I meant it.

Then kiss me, Claire," he whispered. "And know that you are more to me than life, and I have no regret." I couldn't answer, but kissed him, first his hand, its crooked fingers warm and firm, and the brawny wrist of a sword-wielder, and then his mouth, haven and promise and anguish all mingled, and the salt of tears in the taste of him.

Joy. Fear. Fear, most of all. His hand came up and smoothed my curls away from his nose I havena been afraid for a verra long time, Sassenach, he whispered. But now I think I am. For there is something to be lost, now. Page 394

Ye dinna stop loving someone just because they're deid," she said reprovingly. "I canna suppose they stop lovin' you, either.

Claire," he said quietly. "Tomorrow I will die. This child Ã¢â'¬Â¦ is all that will be left of me—ever. I ask ye, Claire—I beg you—see it safe." I stood still, vision blurring, and in that moment, I heard my heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.

It's a terrible thing, to think it might be me that would be the threat, that I could kill you with my love-but it's true.

Jemmy won't get to go to Disneyland—but he'll have that. A family that laughs—and millions of little lights in the trees.

Damn you, Sassenach! his voice said, from a very great distance. His voice was choked with passion. Damn you! I swear if ye die on me, I'll kill you!

There is nothing more delightful in life than a feather bed and an open fire—except a feather bed with a warm and tender lover in 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.

When you kissed me like that well maybe you weren't so sorry to be marrying me after all.

No, my Sassenach, he said softly. Open your eyes. Look at me. For that is your punishment, as it is mine. See what you have done to me, as I have done to you. Look at me.

When I'd lost him the first time, before Culloden, I'd remembered. Every moment of our last night together. Tiny things would come back to me through the years: the taste of salt on his temple and the curve of his skull as I cupped his head; the soft fine hair at the base of his neck, thick and damp in my fingers Ã¢â'¬Â¦ the sudden, magical well of his blood in dawning light when I'd cut his hand and marked him forever as my own. Those things had kept him by me.

I have lived through war, and lost much. I know what's worth the fight, and what is not. Honor and courage are matters of the bone, and what a man will kill for, he will sometimes die for, too. And that, O kinsman, is why a woman has broad hips; that bony basin will harbor a man and his child alike. A man's life springs from his woman's bones, and in her blood is his honor christened. For the sake of love alone, would I walk through fire again.

I want to protect ye, Sassenach-spread myself over ye like a cloak and shield you and the child wi' my body.... I would do anything for ye...and yet...there's nothing I can do. It doesna matter how strong I am, or how willing; I canna go with you where ye must go...not even help ye at all. And to think of the things that might happen, and me helpless to stop them...aye, I'm afraid, Sassenach.

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.

For a moment, I saw him as he had looked the morning I married him. Duine uasal was what he looked, a man of worth. But the bold face above the lace was the same, older now, but wiser with it—yet the tilt of his shining head and the set of the wide, firm mouth, the slanted clear cat-eyes that looked into my own, were just the same. Here was a man who had always known his worth.

I was dead, my Sassenach – and yet all that time, I loved you.

We will marry each other.

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