Go Tell the Bees that I Am Gone (Outlander, #9)

by Diana Gabaldon

The essential social services of Fraser’s Ridge,” he said dryly. “Your mother’s the ambulance and your da’s the police.”

Happiness is someone who can mend ye when you’re broken?”

“Ye dinna stop loving someone just because they’re deid,” she said reprovingly. “I canna suppose they stop lovin’ you, either.”

It’s just that broken things always hurt longer than you think they will.

“I love you,” he said softly, and his hand cupped my cheek, big and warm. “As an egg loves salt. Dinna fash, mo chridhe. I’ll think o’ something else.”