Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well.

An Englishman thinks a hundred miles is a long way; and American thinks a hundred years is a long time

If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.

She sounded as though love were an unfortunate but unavoidable condition.

But just then, for that fraction of time, it seems as though all things are possible. You can look across the limitations of your own life, and see that they are really nothing. In that moment when time stops, it is as though you know you could undertake any venture, complete it and come back to yourself, to find the world unchanged, and everything just as you left it a moment before. And it's as though knowing that everything is possible, suddenly nothing is necessary.

Oh, womanly sympathy, love AND food?" I said, laughing. "Don't want a lot, do you?

I was crying and laughing, snuffing tears and blood, bumping at him with my bound hands, trying awkwardly to thrust them at him so that he could cut the rope. He quit grappling, and clutched me so hard against him that I yelped in pain as my face was pressed against his plaid. He was saying something else, urgently, but I couldn’t manage to translate it. Energy pulsed through him, hot and violent, like the current in a live wire, and I vaguely realized that he was still almost berserk; he had no English.