Oh, God, John! he said. I stopped dead, halted much more by the tone of that voice than by the words—it was broken with an emotion I had seldom heard from him. Walking very quietly, I drew closer. Fra...
Oh, Claire, ye do break my heart wi' loving you.
Of course I can. He stuck out a rolled tongue and wiggled it, demonstrating, then pulled it back. Everyone can do that, surely? Ian?Oh, aye, of course. Ian obligingly demonstrated. Anyone can.I can’t,...
Now they think you’re mad; then they thought you were a witch. Cultural mores,
Not then, at least, because Claire had met her—would meet her? Earlier? Later? She hadn’t died, but was she dead? She must be now, mustn’t she, and yet—damn this twistiness! How could he even think ab...
Not for the first time, I reflected that intimacy and romance are not synonymous.
Not everyone who goes through the stones comes out again. His look sharpened. How d’ye ken that, Sassenach? I can—I could—hear them. Screaming. I
No, my Sassenach, he said softly. Open your eyes. Look at me. For that is your punishment, as it is mine. See what you have done to me, as I have done to you. Look at me.
No great difference at all, perhaps. Was my future any more certain than hers? And did I not depend for my life upon a man bound to me—at least in part—by desire of my body? A
Never,he whispered to me, face only inches from mine. Never, I said, and turned my head, closing my eyes to escape the intensity of his gaze. A gentle, inexorable pressure turned me back to face him,...
My own heartbeat was slowing under my hand, under the deep rose silk, the color of a baby’s sleep-flushed cheek. When you hold a child to your breast to nurse, the curve of the little head echoes exac...
My grandsire,' Jamie observed evenly, 'has by all reports got a character that would enable him to hide conveniently behind a spiral staircase.
My first coherent thought was, It’s raining. This must be Scotland.
My father told me never to take advantage of a woman who was the worse for drink, he said. He had stopped squirming, but now started again, slower, as though he couldn’t help himself. I’m not worse, I...
Mmphm,
Might he ever see Jamie Fraser again? There was a good chance he would not. If chance did not kill him, cowardice might. The mania of confession was on him; best make the most of it. His quill had dri...
Men hate things to change, her mother had once casually told her. Unless it’s their idea, of course. But you can make them think it is their idea, sometimes.
Men go where they will, they do as they must; it is not a woman's part to bid them to stay, nor yet to reproach them for being what they are-or for not coming back.
Man’s sense of Morality tends to decrease as his Power increases,
Madam, he said, speaking very softly into her face. I do not want your money. My wife does not want it. And my son will not have it. Cram it up your hole, aye?