You’re real, he whispered. I had thought him pale already. Now all vestiges of color drained from his face.
You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I said bleakly. But I don’t know, any more than you.
You, um, don’t … talk in bed? I said, striving for delicacy. His mouth twitched, and he looked away. No. We lay in silence for a few moments, examining the ceiling. Have you ever? I blurted. Have I wh...
You, of all people, must appreciate the force of the Hieland charge!Jamie looked up at that, and regarded MacDonald for a long moment before replying.Aye, well. Ye were behind the cannon at Culloden,...
You then challenged him, to— He halted suddenly and stared hard at Grey. Ostensibly, he said, more slowly, ye challenged him to preserve your honor, to refute the slur of sodomy. His lips compressed i...
You know what scholars are like; no conscience at all when it comes to their own field, let alone a sense of social delicacy.
You are mine, always, if ye will it or no, if ye want me or nay. Mine, and I willna let ye go
Ye need not be scairt of me, he said softly. Nor of anyone here, so long as I’m with ye.
Will this be the end of it?''There is never an end to such things,' he said quietly. 'But we are alive. And that is good.
When I asked my da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I'd have no doubt. And I didn't. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting...
Wentworth
Well, I said, he drinks a bit. And he’s rather fond of sheep. But he might remember the words to the wedding ceremony.
Vain of his hair, which was blond and thick, he didn’t commonly wear a wig, choosing instead to bind and powder his own for formal occasions. The present occasion wasn’t formal in the least. With the...
Toulouse-Lautrec syndrome. I had never seen a case before, but I had heard it described. Named for its most famous sufferer (who did not yet exist, I reminded myself), it was a degenerative disease of...
To the taste of breasts like apricots, the warm scent of a woman’s navel when she wakens in the winter, the warmth of a mound that fills your hand like a peach, split with ripeness.
To stand against a crowd would take something more than ordinary courage; something that went beyond human instinct.
To hell with the Red Flower, I muttered. I seized one of the trout by the tail, ran forward, and belted the bear across the nose with it as hard as I could.
To fight on the winning side was one thing; to survive, quite another.
Time is a lot of the things people say that God is. There's always preexisting, and having no end. There's the notion of being all powerful-because nothing can stand against time, can it? Not mountain...
Though the Congress will have to approve your appointment, Washington went on, frowning a little, and there’s no guarantee as to what those contentious, shopkeeping sons of bitches will do.