If I die," he whispered in the dark, "dinna follow me. The bairns will need ye. Stay for them. I can wait.

What are you doing with the child?" I inquired cautiously. "I'm teachin' young James here the fine art of not pissing on his feet," he explained.

It's only that ye looked so beautiful, wi' the fire on your face, and your hair waving in the wind. I wanted to remember it.

Are some people destined for a great fate, or to do great things? Or is it only that they're born somehow with that great passion - and if they find themselves in the right circumstances, then things happen? It's the sort of thing you wonder.

Healing comes from the healed; not from the physician.

Home is the place where they have to take you in

......what I was born does not matter, only what I will make of myself, only what I will become.