Gentle He Would Be, Denied He Would

I Prayed All The Way Up That Hill Yesterday, He Said Softly. Not For You To Stay; I Didna Think That Would Be Right. I Prayed I'd Be Strong Enough To Send Ye Away. He Shook His Head, Still Gazing Up The Hill, A Faraway Look In His Eyes. I Said 'lord, If I've Never Had Courage In My Life Before, Let Me Have It Now. Let Me Be Brave Enough Not To Fall On My Knees And Beg Her To Stay.' He Pulled His Eyes Away From The Cottage And Smiled Briefly At Me. Hardest Thing I Ever Did, Sassenach.

Character, I Think, Is The Single Most Important Thing In Fiction. You Might Read A Book Once For Its Interesting Plot—but Not Twice.

We Are Bound, You And I, And Nothing On This Earth Shall Part Me From You.

And If Time Is Anything Akin To God, I Suppose That Memory Must Be The Devil.

Gentle He Would Be, Denied He Would Not.