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Ye care in ways I canna ken. Ye defy the box I’ve built for Ye in my mind.
In time, Nonesuch returned, tail still a-wag, eyes bright. Lark had that effect, be it on man or beast. She made both better than they were, better than she’d found them.
one’s heart should cling to people, not places.
In his company, I am grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. Jane Austen
“Thomas Blacklock.”
“O come, and o’er my bosom reign. Expand my heart, inflame each vein.” Her voice trailed away in invitation. “Though ev’ry action mine . . .”
“Each low, each selfish with control; with all thy essence warm my soul, and make me wholly thine.”
She finally said, “Bethankit,” her happiness his.
I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them. Jane Austen
“There’s naught to be done but storm heaven with prayer,”
“O Almighty Lord, who art a most strong tower to all them that put their trust in Thee. Be now and evermore our defense . . .”
Were it not for hope the heart would break. Scottish proverb
A house, no matter how humble, is made better with bairns.”
a mulberry plant. “These are flourishing and well on their way to producing silk. I’ve been experimenting in my cabin with cottonseed and cochineal beetles with less success.”
“But my laird ye’ll always be,” she answered softly but firmly. “No matter where we are, nor how much time passes. Nor what the Crown says.”
His voice gentled. “And ye’ll always be my Lark.”
The tiny bed was a well-constructed marvel, each end crowned with a wooden finial fashioned into a removable toy. A thistle. A unicorn. A soldier and eagle.
Her quiet delight was Magnus’s own.
Was there a Scripture for that? For bittersweet memories? Or only a verse for the future? Take no thought for the morrow.
The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts. Marcus Aurelius
“Ye were my choice. From the first. I told my father so, long before battle. Before Culloden. But he naysayed the match.”
His heart seemed to be in his eyes. The storm had stripped away all pretense, all distance, paring them down to a few impassioned, soul-stirring words.
Who was to pinpoint a time when childish affection turned more tender? When a mundane look became more?
He’d told her. Unburdened his heart. Spoken the words that had lodged in his soul for so long he couldn’t mark the beginning of them.
Reaching out, he touched her cheek, not quickly or carelessly but gently and lingeringly, as if wanting to mark her skin’s softness in memory and make the most of this very rare, private moment.
A house without a dog, a cat, or a little child is a house without joy or laughter. Scottish proverb
Dinner was nothing short of an astonishment. Salted ham, baked shad in pastry, peanut soup, sweet potatoes and sweet corn, turnip greens and creamed celery with pecans. Meringues with cherry sauce were served for dessert,
“Yet God has seen us here and promises to turn things in our favor no matter how dark. If He promises to bring good from all this, should we not look for the good too?”
“What is in that head and heart of yers, Lark?” Reaching up, she covered his hand with her own. “Both are full of a place that’s home to us and wee Larkin. Our own abode, one of beauty and peace with a garden and bees and yer sheep. I’ll make oatcakes and tea and ye’ll hang yer hat by the door, and we’ll shut the world away. ’Tis as real to me as if I was standing on the threshold.”
No one is without difficulties, whether in high or low life, and every person knows best where their own shoe pinches. Abigail Adams
He put his arms around them both. His Gaelic came soft. “Is thu mannsachd.”
Thou art my most beloved.
He set Larkin down so that his arms were for her alone. She closed her eyes. She’d come home. All her years-long yearn...
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Truly, tea was the cup that cheered.
“Larkin. It means fierce or warrior in Gaelic. But ye may call him Laurence, the English way, if ye’d rather.”
a tiny golden thread of relief in a dark tapestry of needs.
“Yet I do fear Him. He is holy and I am not. I am a sinner saved by grace. And I believe in Him with all my heart.”
“As Creator of the universe, perhaps. Not as a personal, intimate being, surely.” “If He isna personal, He is worth very little to me,”
“Would a God give up His own beloved Son if He was impersona...
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I love thee, I love but thee, with a love that shall not die, till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old. Shakespeare
