Culloden, Battle of, Scotland, 1746
Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746
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AusTex78729 thinks this title is suitable for 16 years and over
PBnuffsaid thinks this title is suitable for 18 years and over
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English nurse Claire Beauchamp Randall and husband Frank take a second honeymoon in the Scottish Highlands in 1945. When Claire walks through a cleft stone in an ancient henge, she's somehow transported to 1743. She encounters Frank's evil ancestor, British captain Jonathan "Black Jack" Randall, and is adopted by another clan. Claire nurses young soldier James Fraser, a gallant, merry redhead, and the two begin a romance, seeing each other through many perilous, swashbuckling adventures involving Black Jack. Scenes of the Highlanders' daily life blend poignant emotions with Scottish wit and humor. Eventually Sassenach (outlander) Claire finds a chance to return to 1945, and must choose between distant memories of Frank and her happy, uncomplicated existence with Jamie.
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" Hanovers and Stuarts? To me, these were still no more than names on a chart on the schoolroom wall. What were they, compared with an unthinkable evil like Hitler's Reich? It made a difference to those who lived under the kings, I supposed, though the differences might seem trivial to me. Still, when had the right to live as one wished ever been trivial? Was a struggle to choose one's own destiny less worthwhile than the necessity to stop a great evil?"-Claire
" Aye, I believe ye, Sassenach. But it would ha' been a good deal easier if you'd only been a witch."-Jamie
" Ye need not be scairt of me. Nor of anyone here, so long as I'm with ye."-Jamie
" I wanted ye from the first time I saw ye-but I loved ye when you wept in my arms and let me comfort you, that first time at Leoch."-Jamie
" For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary. It is all. It is undying. And it is enough."-Claire
" There are things that I canna tell you, at least not yet. And I'll ask nothing of ye that ye canna give me. But what I would ask of ye-when you do tell me something, let it be the truth. And I'll promise ye the same. We have nothing now between us, save-respect, perhaps. And I think that respect has maybe room for secrets, but not for lies. Do ye agree?"-Jamie
"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ."-Claire
Some hae meat that canna eat,
An some culd eat that want it,
We hae meat an we can eat,
An so may God be thank it.
I was having trouble with the scale of things. A man killed with a musket was just as dead as one killed with a mortar. It was just that the mortar killed impersonally, destroying dozens of men, while the musket was fired by one man who could see the eyes of the one he killed. That made it murder, it seemed to me, not war. How many men to make a war?