If you knew they were really balls of flaming gas, you could imagine them as van Gogh saw them, without difficulty … and looking into that illuminated void, you understood why people have always looke...
This is why you use imagery when writing about sex; it’s a means both of evoking immediacy and of distilling emotion.
Murtagh was one of those men who always looked a bit startled to find that women had voices, but he nodded politely enough.
I’ll thank ye, said a cool, level voice, to take your hands off my wife.
The law's a necessary evil--we canna be doing without it--but do ye not think it a poor substitute for conscience?
I thought I could make out Jamie's Highland screech, but that was likely imagination; they all sounded equally demented.
Created by Your hand as You created man, Life given for life. That me and mine may eat with thanks for the gift, That me and mine may give thanks for Your own sacrifice of blood and flesh, Life gi...
For several days, I slept. Whether this was a necessary part of physical recovery, or a stubborn retreat from waking reality, I do not know, but I woke only reluctantly to take a little food, falling...
It wasn't a thing I had consciously missed, but having it now reminded me of the joy of it; that drowsy intimacy in which a man's body is accessible to you as your own, the strange shapes and textures...
Pointing out the emotion in a scene is like laughing at your own jokes.
Aye, beg me for mercy, Sassenach. Ye shallna have it, though; not yet.
He stood for a moment, bereavement a sudden, small tear in his soul.
The colors of living things begin to fade with the last breath, and the soft, springy skin and supple muscle rot within weeks. But the bones sometimes remain, faithful echoes of the shape, to bear som...
We dangled our feet in the water, moving from shade to sun and back to shade as we grew too warm, talking of this and that and not much of anything, both aware of each other’s smallest movement, both...
For so many years, 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 am, madam, Jonathan Randall, Esquire, Captain of His Majesty’s Eighth Dragoons. At your service, madam.
Castle Leoch. Well, at least now I knew where I was. When I had known it, Castle Leoch was a picturesque ruin, some thirty miles north of Bargrennan. It was considerably more picturesque now, what wit...
For months, people have been asking my views about the Scottish independence referendum, and I've been saying, 'It's not my country; I don't live here. Much as I love Scotland, I think it would be ina...
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. You’re back, I said, rather inanely. I...
No. Ye loved him. I canna hold it against either of you that ye mourn him. And it gives me some comfort to know ... He hesitated, and I reached up to smooth the rumpled hair off his face.To know what?...
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