It wasn't a thing I had consciously missed, but having it now reminded me of the joy of it; that drowsy intimacy in which a man's body is accessible to you as your own, the strange shapes and textures of it like a sudden extension of your own limbs.
("Voyager")
More Quotes from Diana Gabaldon:
Any piece of good music is in essence a love song.Diana Gabaldon
Everyone can lie, young Roger, given cause enough. Even me. It's only that it's harder for those of us who live in glass faces; we have to think up our lies ahead of time.
Diana Gabaldon
This is our time. Until that time stops - for one of us, for both - it is our time. Now. Will you waste it, because you are afraid?
Diana Gabaldon
What a mystery blood was -- how did a tiny gesture, a tome of voice, endure through generations like the harder verities of flesh? He had seen it again and again, watching his nieces and nephews grow, and accepted without thought the ehoes of parent and grandparent that appeared for brief moments. the shadow of a face looking back through the years -- that vanished again into the face that was now.
Diana Gabaldon
Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul
Diana Gabaldon
And if your life is a suitable exchange for my honor, why is my honor not a suitable exchange for your life?
Diana Gabaldon
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Gustav Klimt
A pun is not bound by the laws which limit nicer wit. It is a pistol let off at the ear; not a feather to tickle the intellect.
Charles Lamb
The return makes one love the farewell.
Alfred de Musset