There was a feeling, not sudden, but complete, as though I had been given a small object to hold unseen in my hands. Precious as opal, smooth as jade, weighty as a river stone, more fragile than a bird's egg. Infinitely still, live as the root of Creation. Not a gift, but a trust. Fiercely to cherish, softly to guard. The words spoke themselves and disappeared into the groined shadows of the roof.
Diana Gabaldonโฆbut SassenachโI am the true home of your heart, and I know that.โ He lifted my hands to his mouth and kissed my upturned palms, one and then the other, his breath warm and his beard-stubble soft on my fingers. โI have loved others, and I do love many, Sassenachโbut you alone hold all my heart, whole in your hands,โ he said softly. โAnd you know that.
Diana GabaldonAn Englishman thinks a hundred miles is a long way; and American thinks a hundred years is a long time
Diana GabaldonThere was a feeling, not sudden, but complete, as though I had been given a small object to hold unseen in my hands. Precious as opal, smooth as jade, weighty as a river stone, more fragile than a bird's egg. Infinitely still, live as the root of Creation. Not a gift, but a trust. Fiercely to cherish, softly to guard. The words spoke themselves and disappeared into the groined shadows of the roof.
Diana Gabaldon