Quotes About Love

It's not too late, you know," she said. She smiled, teasing a little tremulously. "You could still back out." "It's been too late for me since the day I saw you," he said gruffly.

If you find him," she whispered, "when you find my father—give him this." She bent and kissed me, fiercely, gently, then straightened and turned me toward the stone. "Go, Mama," she said, breathless. "I love you. Go!

I glanced upward once, to see Brianna glowing, still smiling from ear to ear. Jamie was behind her, also smiling, his cheeks wet with tears. He said something to her in husky Gaelic, and brushing the hair away from her neck, leaned forward and kissed her gently, just behind the ear

Is thee afraid of me, Rachel?" he whispered. "I am," she whispered back, and closed her hand on his wounded shoulder, lightly but hard enough for him to feel the hurt of it. "And I am afraid for thee, as well. But there are things I fear much more than death—and to be without thee is what I fear most.

It was Jamie's fear that he would lose her—that she would go, swing out into a dark and solitary space without him, unless he could somehow bind her to him, keep her with him. But, Christ, what a risk to take—with a woman so shocked and brutalized, how could he risk it?

the ancient savagery that men call motherhood, who mistake its tenderness for weakness.

Does it ever stop? The wanting you?" His hand came around to caress my breast. "Even when I've just left ye, I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.

I was sorry that I'd told him, but I had no defenses anymore. I could not lie, even for the best of reasons; there was simply no place to go, nowhere to hide. I felt beset by whispering ghosts, their loss, their need, their desperate love pulling me apart. Apart from Jamie, apart from myself.

I love you," he murmured. "Oh, Bree, I do love you." She didn't answer, but a hand floated up from the dark and lay along his cheek, gentle as a tendril of seaweed. She kept it there while he took her, laid open in trust, while her other hand held his beating heart.

His flesh seemed to melt comfortably into Roger's own, his trust so complete that it was not necessary even to maintain the boundaries of his body—Daddy would do that.

And was there love there? Beyond the limits of flesh and time, was all love possible? Was it necessary? The voice of my thoughts seemed to be Uncle Lamb's. My family, and all I knew of love as a child. A man who had never spoken love to me, who had never needed to, for I knew he loved me, as surely as I knew I loved. For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary. It is all. It is undying. And it is enough.

My life is yours. And it's yours to decide what we shall do, where we go next. To France, to Italy, even back to Scotland. My heart has been yours since the first time I saw ye, and you've held my soul and body between your hands here and kept them safe. We shall go as ye say.

Feel my heart," he said. His voice sounded thick to his own ears. "Tell me if it stops.

a marriage is made not in ritual or in words but in the living of it

I could know ye all my life, I think, and always love you.

Amphora," he murmured against the wide, sweet curve of her lips. His hands slid over the wide, sweet curve of her hips, cupping smoothness cool and solid, timeless and graceful as the swell of ancient pottery, promising abundance. "Like a Grecian vase. God, you've got the most beautiful arse!" "Jug-butt, huh?

Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

You'd die for them, happily," Hal had said, in the long night watch when I'd kept him breathing. "Your family. But at the same time you think, Christ, I can't die! What might happen to them if I weren't here?

In bed," she said calmly. "I want you to come to bed with me.

And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours. Claire—I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you." [...] Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed." That's the first law of thermodynamics," I said, wiping my nose. No," he said. "That's faith.

I did say when we were wed that I would always see ye fed, no?" He pulled me closer, tucking my head into the curve of his shoulder. "I gave ye three things that day," he said softly. "My name, my family, and the protection of my body. You'll have those things always, Sassenach—so long as we both shall live. No matter where we may be. I willna let ye go hungry or cold; I'll let nothing harm ye, ever.

He came through the front door just as I barreled into the hallway, and grabbed me round the waist, kissing me with sun-dusty enthusiasm and sandpaper whiskers.

Oh, many and many a time," he whispered. "When I saw you. When I took ye, not caring did ye want me or no, did ye have somewhere else to be, someone else to love.

Je t'aime, it said: I love you. Un peu, beaucoup, passionnément, pas du tout: A little, a lot, passionately—not at all.