Quotes About Connection

Oh. It's Fraser. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser." He pronounced it formally, each name slow and distinct. Completely flustered, I said "Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp," and stuck out my hand idiotically. Apparently taking this as a plea for support, he took the hand and tucked it firmly into the crook of his elbow. Thus inescapably pinioned, I squelched up the path to my wedding.

I wanted ye from the first I saw ye – but I loved ye when you wept in my arms and let me comfort you, that first time at Leoch.

I have loved others, and I do love many, Sassenach—but you alone hold all my heart, whole in your hands," he said softly. "And you know that.

I know what it felt . . . like when I . . . thought you were dead, and- A small gasp for breath, and her eyes locked on his. And I wouldn't do that to you. Her bosom fell and her eyes closed. It was a long moment before he could speak. Thank ye, Sassenach, he whispered, and held her small, cold hand between his own and watched her breathe until the moon rose.

He shook his head and squeezed my hand tight. You are my courage, as I am your conscience, he whispered, You are my heart-- I am your compassion. We are neither of us whole, alone. Do ye not know that, Sassenach? --Jamie

I didn't say you shouldn't worry, do you think I don't worry? But no, you probably can't do anything about me.' 'Well, maybe no, Sassenach, and maybe so. But I've lived a long enough time now to think it maybe doesna matter so much-- so long as I can love you.' -Claire & Jamie Fraser

If one day, a bhailach...ye should meet a verra large mouse named Michael-ye'll tell him your grandsire sends his regards.

He touched the rough crucifix that lay against his chest and whispered to the moving air, Lord, that she might be safe, she and my children. Then turned his cheek to her reaching hand and touched her throught the veils of time.

It has always been forever, for me, Sassenach," he said simply.

I canna look at ye asleep without wanting to wake ye, Sassenach." His hand cupped my breast, gently now. "I suppose I find myself lonely without ye.

You're beautiful to me, Jamie," I said softly, at last. "So beautiful, you break my heart.

Ye gave me a child, mo nighean donn, he said softly, into the cloud of my hair. We are together for always. She is safe; and we will live forever now, you and I. He kissed me, very lightly, and laid his head upon the pillow next to me. Brianna, he whispered, in that odd Highland way that made the name his own.

This was nonsense, he thought. The need of her was a physical thing, like the thirsty of a sailor becalmed for weeks on the sea. He'd felt the need before, often, often, in their years apart. But why now? She was safe; he knew where she was - was it only the exhaustion of the past weeks and days, or perhaps the weakness of creeping age that made his bones ache, as though she had in fact been torn from his body, as God had made Eve from Adam's rib?

When you hold a child to your breast to nurse, the curve of the little head echoes exactly the curve of the breast it suckles, as though this new person truly mirrors the flesh from which it sprang.

Your face is my heart

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 lived. For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary. It is all. It is undying. And it is enough.

All the names I've called you through the years—my chick, my pumpkin, precious dove, darling, sweetheart, dinky, smudge Ã¢â'¬Â¦ I know why the Jews and Muslims have nine hundred names for God; one small word is not enough for love.

If ye were no longer there—or somewhere—" he said very softly, "then the sun would no longer come up or go down." He lifted my hand and kissed it, very gently. He laid it, closed around my ring, upon my chest, rose, and left.

To have ye with me again--to talk wi' you--to know I can say anything, not guard my words or hide my thoughts--God, Sassenach, he said, the Lord knows I am lust-crazed as a lad, and I canna keep my hands from you--or anything else--he added, wryly, but I would count that all well lost, had I no more than the pleasure of havin' ye by me, and to tell ye all my heart. .... So tell me all your heart,I said. If there's time.

Come to bed, a nighean. Nothing hurts when ye love me." He was right; nothing did.

Jamie… I only want to be where you are. Nothing else.

For the moment, everything had disappeared: the church, the battle, the screams and shouts and the rumble of limber wheels along the rutted road through Freehold. There wasn't anything but her and him, and he opened his eyes to look on her face, to fix it in his mind forever.

I had noticed before 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 theirs and fold you both in a blanket of unconscious knowing. A throwback of some kind, I thought... 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.

I am a sassenach, after all," I said, seeing it. He touched my face briefly with a rueful smile. "Aye, mo duinne. But you're my sassenach.