From The Lost Symbol

For three years, Peter Solomon had always been the first to arrive for their weekly 7 PM Sunday night meetings. It was their private family ritual, a way to remain connected before the start of a new week, and for Peter to stay up-to-date on Katherine's work at the lab.

From The Fiery Cross
"Christ," he said in an undertone, bending down so I could hear him. "And she's been a woman less than a full day, too!" Have ye been givin' her lessons, Sassenach, or are women just born wi' it?"

From The Leopard - Tomasi Di Lampedusa

"Good manners apart, though, the aspect of those monumental dishes of macaroni was worthy of the quivers of admiration they evoked. The burnished gold of the crusts, the fragrance of sugar and cinnamon they exuded, were but preludes to the delights released from the interior when the knife broke the crust; first came a spice-laden haze, then chicken livers, hard boiled eggs,sliced ham, chicken and truffles in masses of piping hot,glistening macaroni, to which the meat juice gave an exquisite hue of suede. "

From The Mists of Avalon


"Igraine, who had been taught in the Holy Isle that death was no more than the gateway to new birth, could not understand this; how could a Christian have such fear and trembling at going to his eternal peace? She remembered Father Columba chanting some of his doleful psalms. Yes, their God was supposed to be a God of fear and punishment as well. She could understand how a king, for the good of his people, might have to do some things which would lie heavy on his conscience. If even she could understand and forgive that, how culd a merciful God be more bigoted and vengeful than the least of his mortals? She supposed it was one of their Mysteries."

The Memoirs of Cleopatra by Margaret George

In the fresh morning gold of sunshine, thin and without heat, we sailed up the Nile, looking to the western bank for our first glimpse of the pyramids. The seemingly endless green of the Delta fields had been replaced by a narrow ribbon of green on either side of the river, and just beyond that, as if someone had drawn a line, the desert began. The golden sand lay flat and expressionless, like the face of a god, stretching into eternity beyond our eyesight.

Not the most interesting page 42 in my book unfortunately...

Sea of Poppies by Amitav Ghosh

The top deck of the budgerow was an open gallery, ringed by a waist high deck rail: it was the tradition amongst the Raskhali zemindars to use the space for flying kites. THe sport was much beloved of the Halder menfolk, and as with other such favoured pursuits - for example, music and the cultivation of roses - the had added nuances and subtleties that elevated the flying of kits from a mere amusement to a form of connoisseurship. While common people cared for only how high their kites soured and how well they 'fought' with others, what mattered most to the Halders was the pattern of the kite's flight and whether or not it matched the precise shade and mood of the wind. Generations of landed leisure had allowed them to develop their own terminology for this aspect of the elements : in their vocabulary, a strong steady breeze was a 'neel', blue, a violent nor'easter was purple and a listless puff was yellow.

I love both of those Outlander quotes. Lyn's makes me reminiscent of DiA and Dorie's makes me look forward to finishing the series :)

From Dragonfly in Amber by Diana Gabaldon

Roger noticed her shivering, and drew her hand further through his arm, bringing her close. He thought he might burst from the sudden swell of happiness touching her gave him, but tried to disguise it with a retreat into historical monologue. "Well, that was the way generals lead, back then--from the rear. Especially Charlie, he ran off so fast at the end of the battle that he left behind his sterling silver picnic set."

This is a good one, very Jamie.

From An Echo in the Bone by Diana Gabaldon

"You didn't ask what I want done with my body." I'd meant it at least half in jest, to lighten his mood, but his fingers curled so abruptly over mine that I gasped. "No," he said softly. "And I never will."

The Commoner A Novel by John Burnham Schwartz

In pursuit of this institutional goal I could claim no special prize. In those days my interests were more earthly; I was quite good at track. My nickname, in fact, was Gazelle. I ran the eight hundred meters, the fifteen hundred, and anchor on our relay team.

The Princes of Ireland by Edward Rutherfurd

Why should he have chosen her to look at? She had no idea. But his eyes remained fixed on hers, as if he would like to talk to her, his head turning slowly as he went by. His chariot passed, and he did not look back; but she continued to watch after him when he had gone.

The Map of Love by Ahdaf Soueif

Later, I put more ice into our Baraka Perrier. The night air is cool and pleasant on my balcony and the darkness obscures the rubble on the roofs of the neighbouring houses. I sip my Baraka and say, 'There used to be gardens on the roofs here in Cairo. There would be trellises and pergolas and vines and Indian jasmine. Rugs and cushions on the floor, and dovecotes. And after sunset people would sit out on the roofs--imagine.' Girls and boys would exchange glances across the rooftops and children would play in the cool of the evening and in the daytime the washing would be hung out on the lines, and when it came down all folded in the big baskets you could bury your face in the linen sheets and smell the sunshine...

I, Coriander by Sally Gardner

Pg 42:
My father rushed into the room. He too slipped, then regained his footing, his face ashen white. He lifted my mother onto the bed and loosened her clothes. While I stood watching, the pearls rolled noisily across the floor under the furniture and out of sight. I knelt down and collected as many as I could. All I could think was as long as they did not cloud over everything would be all right.

Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin

It was as if he had sprung out of the ground. He was marching toward her, casting a long shadow. No pimply student this time. One of the pilgrimage's heavy and confident crusaders, the metal links of his mail hissing beneath the tabard, the mouth smiling but the eyes as hard as the iron encasing head and nose. "Well, well, now," he was saying with anticipation. "Well, well, now, mistress."

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