You are my courage, as I am your conscience. You are my heart—and I your compassion. We are neither of us whole, alone. Do ye not know that, Sassenach?
Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone.
I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One.
I give ye my Spirit, ’til our Life shall be Done.
Without you in my arms, I feel an emptiness in my soul. I find myself searching the crowds for your face—I know it is an impossibility, but I cannot help myself.
When the day shall come, that we do part, if my last words are not ‘I love you’—ye’ll ken it was because I didna have time.
When one is in love one begins by deceiving oneself. And one ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.
Well, my dear, take heart. Some day, I will kiss you and you will like it. But not now, so I beg you not to be too impatient.
We the mortals touch the metals, the wind, the ocean shores, the stones, knowing they will go on, inert or burning, and I was discovering, naming all the these things: it was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
Twenty years of romance make a woman look like a ruin; but twenty years of marriage make her something like a public building.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.