If I Die," He Whispered In The

Blood Of My Blood," He Whispered, "and Bone Of My Bone. You Carry Me Within Ye, Claire, And Ye Canna Leave Me Now, No Matter What Happens, You Are Mine, Always, If Ye Will It Or No, If Ye Want Me Or Nay. Mine, And I Wilna Let Ye Go.

Character, I Think, Is The Single Most Important Thing In Fiction. You Might Read A Book Once For Its Interesting Plot—but Not Twice.

...sitting And Waiting Is One Of The Most Miserable Occupations Known To Man - Not That It Usually Is Known To Men; Women Do It Much More Often.

It Was A Beautiful Bright Autumn Day, With Air Like Cider And A Sky So Blue You Could Drown In It.

"sassenach." He Had Called Me That From The First; The Gaelic Word For Outlander, A Stranger. An Englishman. First In Jest, Then In Affection.