Still, he always approahed the job with a faint reluctance, disliking the manner of it more than the result. Chopping down a tree for timber was straight-forward; girdling it seemed somehow mean-spiri...
Still, as the Mass went on, things seemed more normal; there were Bible readings, quite familiar, and then the accustomed descent into the vaguely pleasant boredom of a sermon, in which the inevitable...
She supposed that it it perhaps not fair to quarrel with someone on the basis of what you thought they were thinking
Relatively few who could be described as a Red-haired dejenerate Pox-ridden Usuring Son of a Bitch who skulks in Brothels when not drunk and comitting Riot in the Street, I imagine.
Pleasure? Her voice rose behind me, incredulous. Ye mean some women like it?
People disappear all the time. Ask any policeman. Better yet, ask a journalist. Disappearances are bread-and-butter to journalists.
On the one hand, I did disapprove on principle of torture and cold-blooded murder. On the other …
Of course you would protect the woman, he said. You protect everyone, John—I don’t suppose you can help it.Astonished, Grey opened his mouth to contest this absurd statement, but was forestalled when...
Och, I want them frightened of me, Sassenach. It’s the only way I’ll have a chance of bringing them out of it alive.
Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed. That’s the first law of thermodynamics, I said, wiping my nose. No, he said. That’s faith.
Not that my watching out was likely to do a lot of good, I thought; every second man on the dock looked like an assassin to me.
No wonder men got impervious to superficial pain, I thought. It came from this habit of hammering each other incessantly.
Nice clothes are all very well, but if gossip and scheming and worry and silly parties and tiny rules of etiquette go with them … no. I’d as soon live in my shift and say what I like.
Never, he said, more softly. For you are mine. My wife, my heart, my soul.
My turn today—yours tomorrow. Thus passes the glory of the world.
My love, he whispered. Oh, my love. I do want ye so.
Mo nighean donn, he whispered, mo chridhe. My brown lass, my heart. Come to me. Cover me. Shelter me, a bhean, heal me. Burn with me, as I burn for you.
Luceo Non Uro. ‘I shine, not burn,
Lord, that she might be safe, he prayed. She and the child.
Jealousy had nothing to do with logic.