Tess S

“He reached out a long arm and drew me in, holding me close against him. I put my arms around him and felt the quiver of his muscles, exhausted, and the sheer hard strength still in him, that would hold him up, no matter how tired he might be. We stood quite still for some time, my cheek against his chest and his face against my hair, drawing strength from each other for whatever might come next. Being married.”
― Diana Gabaldon, Written in My Own Heart's Blood

“There aren't any answers, only choices”
― Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber

“Where d'ye think he is now?" Jenny said suddenly. "Ian, I mean."
He glanced at the house, then at the new grave waiting, but of course that wasn't Ian any more. He was panicked for a moment, for his earlier emptiness returning-but then it came to him, and, without surprise, he knew what it was Ian had said to him.
"On your right, man." On his right. Guarding his weak side.
"He's just here," he said to Jenny, nodding to the spot between them. "Where he belongs.”
― Diana Gabaldon, An Echo in the Bone

“For a long time," he said at last, "when I was small, I pretended to myself that I was the bastard of some great man. All orphans do this, I think," he added dispassionately."It makes life easier to bear, to pretend that it will not always be as it is, that someone will come and restore you to your rightful place in the world."
He shrugged.
"Then I grew older, and knew that this was not true. No one would come to rescue me. But then-" he turned his head and gave Jamie a smile of surpassing sweetness.
"Then I grew older still, and discovered that after all, it was true. I am the son of a great man."
The hook touched Jamie's hand, hard and capable.
"I wish for nothing more.”
― Diana Gabaldon, An Echo in the Bone