Dropped peacefully into sleep, to dream of kilted Highland men, and the sound of soft-spoken Scots, burring round a fire like the sound of bees in the heather.
Dresses fit you, I wonder?
As usual in such matters, God’s sense of humor trumped all imagination.
Accoucheur
A marriage is made not in ritual or in words but in the living of it.
You’re real, he whispered. I had thought him pale already. Now all vestiges of color drained from his face.
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 dinna need to understand me, Sassenach, he said quietly. So long as you love me.
You are mine, always, if ye will it or no, if ye want me or nay. Mine, and I willna let ye go
Yes, Madame. The Jews of Frankfort are not allowed to use family names. He looked up and smiled lopsidedly. For the sake of convenience, the neighbors call us after an old red shield that was painted...
Ye need not be scairt of me, he said softly. Nor of anyone here, so long as I’m with ye.
Ye ken that, don’t ye? That they can only be what they are because you and I are what we are?
With no Law to regulate their Behavior save Self-interest, though, plainly there is Nothing to prevent an irregular Militia from becoming more of a Threat to the Citizenry than the Dangers from which...
With a sudden jerk of her bulky handbag, Claire Randall had bumped both whisky glasses off the table, showering Roger’s lap and thighs with single malt whisky
Who— My voice was hoarse with shock, and I had to stop and clear my throat. Who is his mother? Grey hesitated, eyeing me closely, then shrugged slightly. Was. She’s dead.
When you write it down… he said. Does that make it—whatever it is—real again? Or does the act of putting it into words make it unreal? You know, something…separate from yourself.
When ye set about a difficult quest—if ye’re Kahnyen’kehaka, I mean—ye generally go aside for a time, to fast and pray for guidance. We havena time to be doing that now, of course. But often, while ye...
What, she’s taken the hairs off her honeypot? he said, horrified into uncharacteristic vulgarity.
What is it about ye, Sassenach, I wonder? he said conversationally, eyes still fixed on Myers.What is about me?He turned then, and gave me a narrow eye. What it is that makes every man ye meet want t...
What a mystery blood was—how did a tiny gesture, a tone of voice, endure through generations like the harder verities of flesh? He had seen it again and again, watching his nieces and nephews grow, an...