For so many years, for so long, I have been so many things, so many different men. But here," he said, so softly I could barely hear him, "here in the dark, with you… I have no name.

When the day shall come that we do part," he said softly, and turned to look at me, "if my last words are not 'I love you'-ye'll ken it was because I didna have time.

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

It was a beautiful bright autumn day, with air like cider and a sky so blue you could drown in it.

Torn between the impulse to stroke his head, and the urge to cave it in with a rock, I did neither.

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.

One dictum I had learned on the battlefields of France in a far distant war: You cannot save the world, but you might save the man in front of you, if you work fast enough.

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

You dinna need to understand me, Sassenach," he said quietly. "So long as you love me.

D'ye ken that the only time I am without pain is in your bed, Sassenach? When I take ye, when I lie in your arms-my wounds are healed, then, my scars forgotten.

There aren't any answers, only choices

If the sale of flesh could be made as easily as the sale of spiritual exemption, the prescience of a dedicated businessman might be well preserved.

It's not your size. It's your inner strength.

Invest in yourself. your career is the engine of your wealth.

He would wake up knowing that as long as he was capable of having such beautiful dreams, a part of him must still be good.

My goal is to try to avoid a regular job.

The mark of one who loves God and saints is sacrifice.

Before the war, and especially before the Boer War, it was summer all the year round.

I never play characters that are like me because I'm a boring person. I wouldn't want to see me in a movie.

Let us never accept the point of view that mysteries are written by hacks. The poorest of us shed our blood over every chapter. The best of us start from scratch with every new book.

A longing for the dance stirs in the buried life.