...well, If Women's Work Was

Forgiveness Is Not A Single Act, But A Matter Of Constant Practice

Murtagh Was Right About Women. Sassenach, I Risked My Life For Ye, Committing Theft, Arson, Assault, And Murder Into The Bargain. In Return For Which Ye Call Me Names, Insult My Manhood, Kick Me In The Ballocks And Claw My Face. Then I Beat You Half To Death And Tell Ye All The Most Humiliating Things Have Ever Happened To Me, And Ye Say Ye Love Me." He Laid His Head On His Knees And Laughed Some More. Finally He Rose And Held Out A Hand To Me, Wiping His Eyes With The Other. "you're No Verra Sensible, Sassenach, But I Like Ye Fine. Let's Go.

Boldness In Battle Is Nothing Out Of The Way... But To Face Down Fear In Cold Blood Is Rare In Any Man.

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 Swore An Oath Before The Altar Of God To Protect This Woman. And If You're Tellin' Me That Ye Consider Your Own Authority To Be Greater Than That Of The Almighty, Then I Must Inform Ye That I'm Not Of That Opinion, Myself.