Quotes About Emotion

When I'd lost him the first time, before Culloden, I'd remembered every moment of our last night together. Tiny things would come back to me through the years: the taste of salt on his temple and the curve of his skull as I cupped his head; the soft fine hair at the base of his neck, thick and damp in my fingers... the sudden, magical well of his blood in dawning light when I'd cut his hand and marked him forever as my own. Those things kept him by me.

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.

I want you Claire. I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?

I felt sick when I thought of the end—but I really wanted to remember how. How it felt, and how I did it, so maybe I can do it again, with Roger.

friend's face that something terrible had happened. The fact that he was seeing Jamie Fraser's face at all was evidence enough of that, never mind the look of the man.

I stood still, vision blurring, and in that moment, I heard my heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.

Does it ever stop? The wanting you? Even when I just left ye, I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.

got up. She couldn't lie in bed mourning what was lost; it was no

conscience as her lover. Her husband.

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. Framed in the half-open door was Jamie, head bowed as he pressed Lord John Grey tight in a fervent embrace. I stood still, completely incapable of movement or speech. As I watched, they broke apart.

My hands were cold, and I felt slightly sick. What in the name of God was going on? The Governor's shock at learning that I was Jamie's wife was now at least partially explained; that one glimpse of unguarded, painful yearning had told me exactly how matters stood on his side. Jamie was another question altogether.

Oh," I said, very touched. "Thank you.

He'd straightened his shoulders as he spoke; she could see him reach beyond his own emotion and tiredness and grasp his calling as another man might grip his sword.

As I leaned against the wall, trembling in the shadows, the door to the Governor's quarters opened, and the Governor came out, returning to his party. His face was flushed and his eyes shone. I could at that moment easily have murdered him, had I anything more lethal than a hairpin to hand.

recognized, with a fresh burst of rage, the impulse

the pinched face of a man with

But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul

When you write it down…" he said. "Does that make it—whatever it is—real again? Or does the act of putting it into words make it unreal? You know, something…separate from yourself.

Tad bu?iuoki mane tu šimt? syki?, Vis? t?kstant?, antr? šimt? syki?, V?l dar t?kstant?, dar ne vien? šimt?... Daugel t?kstan?i? kai sud?sim šitaip, Juos sujaksime, kad neb?t? skai?iaus.

Is it true - that I won't forget? He paused for a moment, hand on her hair. Aye, that's true, he said softly. But it's true, too, that it willna matter after a time.

Sometimes I want to ride you like a wild horse, and bring you to the taming - did you know that? I can do it, you know I can. Drag you over the edge and drain you to a gaping husk. I can drive you to the edge of collapse and sometimes I delight in it, Jamie, I do! And yet, so often I want' - my voice broke suddenly and I had to swallow hard before continuing - 'I want... to hold your head against my breast and cradle you like a child and comfort you to sleep.

My body is out of my control. She was the half of my body--the very half of my soul.

Well, I'll tell ye, Sassenach, 'graceful' is possibly not the first word that springs to mind at thought of you." He slipped an arm behind me, one hand large and warm around my silk-clad shoulder. "But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.

appealing than truth and rationality. The words