There Aren't Any Answers, Only Choices

Where Did You Learn To Kiss Like That?” I Said, A Little Breathless. He Grinned And Pulled Me Close Again. “i Said I Was A Virgin, Not A Monk,” He Said, Kissing Me Again. “if I Find I Need Guidance, I’ll Ask.

I'll Leave It To You, Sassenach," He Said Dryly, "to Imagine What It Feels Like To Arrive Unexpectedly In The Midst Of A Brothel, In Possession Of A Verra Large Sausage.

I Wept Bitterly, Surrendering Momentarily To My Fear And Heartbroken Confusion, But Slowly I Began To Quiet A Bit, As Jamie Stroked My Neck And Back, Offering Me The Comfort Of His Broad, Warm Chest. My Sobs Lessened And I Began To Calm Myself, Leaning Tiredly Into The Curve Of His Shoulder. No Wonder He Was So Good With Horses, I Thought Blearily, Feeling His Fingers Rubbing Gently Behind My Ears, Listening To The Soothing, Incomprehensible Speech. If I Were A Horse, I'd Let Him Ride Me Anywhere.

People Assume That Science Is A Very Cold Sort Of Profession, Whereas Writing Novels Is A Warm And Fuzzy Intuitive Thing. But In Fact, They Are Not At All Different.

Do You Know,' He Said Again Softly, Addressing His Hands, 'what It Is To Love Someone, And Never - Never! - Be Able To Give Them Peace, Or Joy, Or Happiness?' He Looked Up Then, Eyes Filled With Pain. 'to Know That You Cannot Give Them Happiness, Not Through Any Fault Of Yours Or Theirs, But Only Because You Were Not Born The Right Person For Them?