ImTiredOfRunning
   
Membro dal: 05/12/06
Nuovo recensore (13 recensioni)


«Even if you traveled ahead of the chaos, ahead of the path, sooner or later you come back to the beginning, and by running you did nothing, nothing but spend time, worthless time, wasted. I’m tired of running, but I have to believe that it’s not the ends that are important. I’ve got to believe that the journeys are where the real importance is, and it’s not the winning that matters as much as how you fought. Journey with me, Detective.»

DocPaul, The Praetorians


Beneath the tip of my finger, I could feel the hair-thin line of his ancient scar, buried deep beneath the ruddy waves. He leaned back against the pull of my hand, and swiveled round to look up at me, so my hand now cupped the bone of his jaw.
"Oh well," he said, smiling slightly. His hand touched mine, and drew my fingers into his. "Ye'd know about that, now, wouldn't ye, Sassenach?" I sat down beside him, close, my hand on his leg, and his hand on mine. We sat thus for a bit, side by side, watching the rain clouds roll in over the river, like a threat of distant war. And I thought that whether it was choice or no choice, it might be that it came to the same thing in the end.
Jamie's hand still lay on mine. It tightened a little, and I glanced at him, but his eyes were still fixed somewhere past the dooryard; past the mountains, and the distant clouds. His grip tightened further, and I felt the edges of my ring press into my flesh.
"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."

Diana Gabaldon, The fiery cross
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