…but Sassenach—i Am The True Home Of

It Isn't Necessarily Easier If You Know What It Is You're Meant To Do-- But At Least You Don't Waste Time In Questioning Or Doubting. If You're Honest--well, That Isn't Necessarily Easier, Either. Though I Suppose If You're Honest With Yourself And Know What You Are, At Least You're Less Likely To Feel That You've Wasted Your Life, Doing The Wrong Thing.

It Was One Of Those Strange Moments That Came To Him Rarely, But Never Left. A Moment That Stamped Itself On Heart And Brain, Instantly Recallable In Every Detail, For All Of His Life. There Was No Telling What Made These Moments Different From Any Other, Though He Knew Them When They Came. He Had Seen Sights More Gruesome And More Beautiful By Far, And Been Left With No More Than A Fleeting Muddle Of Their Memory. But These-- The Still Moments, As He Called Them To Himself-- They Came With No Warning, To Print A Random Image Of The Most Common Things Inside His Brain, Indelible.

I Work On Multiple Projects At A Time Because It Keeps Me From Getting Writer's Block.

I Can Bear Pain Myself, He Said Softly, But I Couldna Bear Yours. That Would Take More Strength Than I Have.

Jamie," I Said, "how, Exactly, Do You Decide Whether You're Drunk?" Aroused By My Voice, He Swayed Alarmingly To One Side, But Caught Himself On The Edge Of The Mantelpiece. His Eyes Drifted Around The Room, Then Fixed On My Face. For An Instant, They Blazed Clear And Pellucid With Intelligence. "och, Easy, Sassenach, If Ye Can Stand Up, You're Not Drunk." He Let Go Of The Mantelpiece, Took A Step Toward Me, And Crumpled Slowly Onto The Hearth, Eyes Blank, And A Wide, Sweet Smile On His Dreaming Face.