Quotes About Comfort

Once there, he took a moment to knead the bedclothes with his paws and turn three times widdershins, as though taking the curse off his resting place, before lying down at my feet, resting his nose on his paws with a deep sigh.

the Devil you ken is better than the Devil you don't.

Don't be afraid," he whispered into my hair. "There's the two of us now." I felt warm, soothed, and safe.

Her breath was warm on his cheek, smelling of fried egg.

Gently, he turned me away from him and fitted himself to my back so we lay nested together. His hand cupped my breast, not in invitation or demand, but because it seemed to belong there.

Papist, and whether I found the word of God any comfort or not, at least I could compare my troubles with Job's." He laughed. "Oddly enough, it was some comfort. Our Lord had to put up wi' being scourged too; and I could reflect that at least I wasna going to be hauled out and crucified

I drew a deep breath, trying to think of something to say, then pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and gave it to him. Are you breathing, Ian? His mouth twitched a little. Aye, I think so. That's all you have to do, for now.

Da," she said, and felt the smile bloom easily this time, unmarred by tears. "Da. Is that Gaelic?" He smiled back, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly. "No. It's only … simple." And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong; he was as big as she'd imagined—and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope.

like that! Here, just let me tuck that bit in for ye.

My sobs lessened and I began to calm myself, leaning tiredly into the curve of his shoulder. No wonder he was so good with horses, I thought blearily, feeling his fingers rubbing gently behind my ears, listening to the soothing, incomprehensible speech. If I were a horse, I'd let him ride me anywhere.

up, no?" said Ian soothingly. "Come now, mi dhu, ye shouldna worrit yourself, it's bad for the babe. And the shouting troubles wee Jamie too." He reached out for his son, who was whimpering, not

fears in the strength of his arm around

you do for shock? Hot liquids, blankets. Brandy.

Mac had found him. A big hand had suddenly reached down and grabbed him, and the next minute he was lifted up, bruised and scraped and bleeding but clutched tight against the Scottish groom's rough shirt, strong arms holding him as though they'd never let him go.

Uncomfortable, but safe

The big white house glowed on the hill above them, tranquil in the afternoon light, the big red spruce behind it a looming but benign presence; not for the first time, he felt that the tree was somehow guarding the house—and in his present fragile mental state, found that notion a comfort.

I will not mourn him alone tonight," he said roughly, and closed the door.

I held him to my breast, arms tight around the broad, shaking shoulders, and my own tears fell on his hair, making small dark patches in the ruddy waves. I pressed my cheek against the top of his head, and murmured small incoherent things to him as though he were Brianna. I thought to myself that perhaps it was like surgery—even when an operation is done to repair existing damage, the healing still is painful.

And then in the dawn he had held me, naked back against bare chest, his thighs warm and strong behind my own, murmuring into the clouds of my hair, "Dinna be afraid. There's the two of us now.

Benden korkmana hiç gerek yok. dedi yumuÅŸak bir sesle. Ben yan?nda olduÄŸum sürece hiç kimseden korkmana gerek yok.

a hand on his arm. Bone and muscle were solid, warm under her

I tried to ignore the conversation going on behind me, to lose myself instead in the memory of Jamie hewing bark and squaring logs, of sleeping in his arms under the shelter of a half-built wall, feeling the house rise up around me, enclosing me in warmth and safety, the permanent embodiment of his embrace. I always felt safe and soothed by this vision, even when I was alone on the mountain, knowing I was protected by the house he had built for me.

He didn't speak for a bit, but his weight drew me closer, like a moon pulled near to its planet. I lay quiet, my hand on him, my hip against his—flesh of his flesh.

What is it, love? I whispered. Jamie, I do love you. I know it, he said quietly. I do know it, my own. Let me tell ye in your sleep how much I love you. For there's no so much I can be saying to ye while ye wake, but the same poor words, again and again. While ye sleep in my arms, I can say things to ye that would be daft and silly waking, and your dreams will know the truth of them. Go back to sleep, mo duinne.