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

by Diana Gabaldon

‘I’m a doctor, not an escalator,’

“Mr. Myers says the sun is coming down and you should go and bless your new bees before they go to sleep.”

“The young one is an officer,” she said, and nodded in affirmation of her observations. “They always think they can do anything they want.”

He wondered whether he would notice if he was doddering or not.

The notion of reading The Soul of a Rebel—Frank’s final book—gave me a feeling that I would have formally diagnosed with no tests whatsoever as the heebie-jeebies.

“I said awa’ and bile your heid!

flesh has no conscience.

“But each one of us is called to live our lives in the smaller moments; to do kindness, to risk our feelings, to take a chance on someone else, to meet the needs of the people we care for. Because God is everywhere, and lives in all of us. Those small moments are His. And He will make of those small things glory…and let His…greatness…shine in…in you.”

“Do I understand correctly that you have resigned your commission, Lord Ellesmere?” the green fungus asked, between nibbles of poached salmon.

William had been raised to exercise courtesy even in adverse circumstances, and thus merely took a forkful of the rabbit terrine and put it into his mouth instead of stabbing Fungo in the throat with it.

judging by the faint but evil smell

“What is it they say? Happiness is someone who can mend ye when you’re broken?”

Two handbreadths above the edge of the earth.”

collieshangie

woolly bears