“Mo Nighean donn," he whispered," mo chridhe. My brown lass, my heart."
Come to me. Cover me. Shelter me. a bhean, heal me. Burn with me, as I burn for you.”
“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.”
“While the Lord might insist that vengeance was His, no male Highlander of my acquaintance had ever thought it right that the Lord should be left to handle such things without assistance.”
“...well, if women's work was never done, why trouble about how much of it wasn't being accomplished at any given moment?”
“I love you, a nighean donn. I have loved ye from the moment I saw ye, I will love ye ’til time itself is done, and so long as you are by my side, I am well pleased wi’ the world.”
“I have lived through war, and lost much. I know what's worth the fight, and what is not. Honor and courage are matters of the bone, and what a man will kill for, he will sometimes die for, too. And that, O kinsman, is why a woman has broad hips; that bony basin will harbor a man and his child alike. A man's life springs from his woman's bones, and in her blood is his honor christened. For the sake of love alone, I would walk through fire again.”
“Bedding her could be anything from tenderness to riot, but to take her when she was a bit the worse for drink was always a particular delight.
Intoxicated, she took less care for him than usual; abandoned and oblivious to all but her own pleasure, she would rake him, bite him - and beg him to serve her so, as well.
He loved the feeling of power in it, the tantalizing choice between joining her at once in animal lust, or of holding himself-for a time- in check, so as to drive her at his whim.”
“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.”
“Sometimes,' he whispered at last, 'sometimes, I dream I am singing, and I wake from it with my throat aching.'
He couldn't see her face, or the tears that prickled at the corners of her eyes.
'What do you sing?' she whispered back. She heard the shush of the linen pillow as he shook his head.
'No song I've ever heard, or know,' he said softly. 'But I know I'm singing it for you.”
“I always wake when you do, Sassenach; I sleep ill without ye by my side.”
“......what I was born does not matter, only what I will make of myself, only what I will become.”
“Our lovemaking was always risk and promise-for if he held my life in his hands when he lay with me, I held his soul, and knew it.”
“He's a man...and that's no small thing to be.”
“Men go where they will, they do as they must; it is not a woman's part to bid them to stay, nor yet to reproach them for being what they are-or for not coming back.”
“The past is gone-the future is not come. And we are here together, you and I.”
“He bent and kissed me briefly, then headed for the door. Just short of it, though, he turned back.
"The, um, sperms ..." he said, a little awkwardly.
"Can ye not take them out and give them decent burial or something?"
I hid my smile in my teacup.
"I'll take good care of them," I promised. "I always do, don't I?”
“You are beautiful,” he whispered to me. “If you say so.” “Do ye not believe me? Have I ever lied to you?” “That’s not what I mean. I mean—if you say it, then it’s true. You make it true.”
“Blessed are those who eat greens, for they shall keep their teeth. Blessed are those who wash their hands after wiping their arses, for they shall not sicken. Blessed are those who boil water, for they shall be called saviors of mankind.”
“You're beautiful to me, Jamie,” I said softly, at last. “So beautiful, you break my heart.”
“You invent yourself...You look at other women-or men; you try on their lives for size. You take what you can use, and you look inside yourself for what you can't find elsewhere. And always...always...you wonder if you're doing it right.”
“Sorcha,” he whispered, and realized that he had called her so a moment before. Now, that was odd; no wonder she had been surprised. It was her name in the Gaelic, but he never called her by it. He liked the strangeness of her, the Englishness. She was his Claire, his Sassenach.”
“If I'd known I should meet a damn bear, Jamie said, grunting as he lifted another stone into place, I would have taken another path.”
“I understood very well just then, why it is that men measure time. They wish to fix a moment, in the vain hope that doing so will keep it from departing.”
“He was not afraid to die with her, by fire or any other way - only to live without her.”
“Money might not buy happiness, I reflected, but it was a useful commodity, nonetheless.”
“I want to take ye to bed. In my bed. And I mean to spend the rest of the day thinking
what to do wit ye once I got ye there. So wee Archie can just go and play at marbles
with his bollucks, aye?”
“She sounded as though love were an unfortunate but unavoidable condition.”
“He thought of such places in a way that had no words, only recognizing one when he came to it. He might have called it holy, save that the feel of such a place had nothing to do with church or saint. It was simply a place he belonged to be, and that was sufficient.”
“He had learned early on the trick of living separately in a crowd, private in his mind when his body could not be. But he was born a mountain-dweller, and had learned early, too, the enchantment of solitude, and the healing of quiet places.”
“The past is gone—the future is not come. And we are here together, you and I.”
“Only the very top of the arched ceiling remained in shadow, as though some dark creature lurked there, devouring all light that strayed too close.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“A picture of my mom,” I said, opening his ice-cold hand and putting the frame in it gently.
“But Apron,” Chad said. “I can’t see.”
“I know. But it’s not for now. It’s for when you get there, so you can find her.”
Chad tapped his finger on my mom’s cheek. “Does she look like you?”
I thought about it hard enough for Chad to take in another long breath. “A little bit,” I said.
“Not quite as pretty?”
“Well,” I said. “You’ll have to see for yourself.”
Chad raised his eyebrows. “I’ll find her, Apron. I promise. If you promise me something, too.”
I nodded, but then remembered he couldn’t see me. “What?”
“Don’t stay sad. Remember our poem. What it means. Promise?”
“S’il est quelquefois logique de s’en rapporter à l’apparence des phénomènes, ce premier chant finit ici. Ne soyez pas sévère pour celui qui ne fait encore qu’essayer sa lyre : elle rend un son si étrange ! Cependant, si vous voulez être impartial, vous reconnaîtrez déjà une empreinte forte, au milieu des imperfections. Quant à moi, je vais me remettre au
travail, pour faire paraître un deuxième chant, dans un laps de temps qui ne soit pas trop retardé. La fin du dix-neuvième siècle verra son poète (cependant, au début, il ne doit pas commencer par un chef d’œuvre, mais suivre la loi de la nature) ; il est né sur les rives américaines, à l’embouchure de la Plata, là où deux peuples, jadis rivaux, s’efforcent actuellement de se surpasser par le progrès matériel et moral. Buenos-Ayres, la reine du Sud, et Montevideo, la coquette, se tendent une main amie, à travers les eaux argentines du grand estuaire. Mais, la guerre éternelle a placé son empire destructeur sur les campagnes, et moissonne avec joie des victimes nombreuses. Adieu, vieillard, et pense à moi, si tu m’as lu. Toi, jeune homme, ne désespère point ; car, tu as un ami dans le vampire, malgré ton opinion contraire. En comptant l’acarus sarcopte qui produit la gale, tu auras deux amis !”
تأتي أشكال لا تعد و لا تحصى ..
و بسبب هذه الإرادة
لا أستطيع حتى أن أتكلم ..
((أي روح القدس))
تأتي جميع الأرواح
اندمج في هذه الروح
و كن عظيما ..
يكون الخير و الشر
و بها يكتب
الألم و السلام
للبعض ، تحضر
للبعض ، تودي
إلى تيه لا نهاية له
كل شئ موجود ضمن تلك الإرادة
.. لا شئ كاذب من ورائها
آه يا ناناك :
“There was also the fact that sometimes vampires committed crimes worse than murder. They commited crimes against fashion.”
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