Genting Highland Quotes

Hart pointed at the carriage. "Get in."
Eleanor started, and the cake vendor, who'd been watching with evident enjoyment, looked worried. "No need," Eleanor said to Hart. "I'll find a hansom. I've brought Maigdlin an I have so many parcels."
"Get into the carriage, El, or I'll strap you to the top of it."
Eleanor rolled her eyes and took another bite of seedcake. ~ Jennifer Ashley

As soon as the man had gone, Caitrina moved to stand before him, her soft feminine scent clouding his senses. Would it always be like this - this clawing need for her? The inability to think when she was near? The feeling that if he didn't take her in his arms and kiss her, he would surely die? ~ Monica McCarty

In every man's mind the good seeds of liberty are planted, and he who brings his fellow down so low, as to make him contented with a condition of slavery, commits the highest crime against God and man. ~ Henry Highland Garnet

Connor felt that he could stare for hours into her eyes and he would still not understand her secrets. He knew for certain that she had secrets. For in that short moment when their eyes had met, he had seen her secrets. And he wanted to know them. Something else though, he had seen the flare of recognition in her eyes. Had they met? ~ Laura Hunsaker

Love can grown among the rocks and thorns of life. ~ Karen Marie Moning

The Highland way says it's who you say you love and who you serve, which is of worth. Not some title that is passed down upon you by tradition. That's the English way, and the Lowland way
but who can be born a nobleman? Nobility is earned ... 'Tis our choices that make us. ~ Susan Fletcher

especially given to dirtying the butter (a thing quite superfluous, according to Captain Burt's description of Highland butter). ~ Andrew Lang

Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time, So "Bonnie Doon" but tarry; Blot out the epic's stately rhyme, But spare his "Highland Mary!" ~ John Greenleaf Whittier

Think of the undying glory that hangs around the ancient name of Africa and forget not that you are native-born American citizens, and as such, you are justly entitled to all the rights that are granted to the freest. ~ Henry Highland Garnet

Celebrations, for me, have always been where celibacy meets masturbation. ~ Gordon Highland

You had better all die - die immediately, than live as slaves and entail your wretchedness upon your posterity. ~ Henry Highland Garnet

The Marines are like my West Highland Terrier. They get up every morning, they want to dig a hole, and they want to kill something. ~ Thomas P.M. Barnett

Lilith opened the shutters and allowed herself to bathe in the bright moonlight, as it shone across the Highland Glen. ~ Alan Kinross

And they need not cause you grief. As my Highland grandmother said - and she had the Sight - "Tis not the dead ye have to be concerned about! Beware of the Living!" And she was a wise woman. The dead are beyond your help or mine, poor things. But the living need us. Thirty souls at the least, Phryne, are still on that island to praise God who might now be angels - or devils. ~ Kerry Greenwood

If Freud had worn a kilt in the prescribed Highland manner he might have had a very different attitude to genitals. ~ Woodrow Wilson

Dear Mr. Duke,

As requested, here is an inventory of the animals in my care:

*Bixby, a two-legged terrier.
*Marigold, a nanny goat of unimpeachable character, who is definitely not breeding.
*Angus, a three-year-old Highland steer.
*Regan, Goneril, and Cordelia- laying hens.
*Delilah, a parrot.
*Hubert, an otter.
*Freya, a hedgehog.
*Thirteen kittens of varying colors and dispositions.


Gabe leafed through the report in disbelief. It went on for pages. She'd given not only the names, breeds, and ages of every misbegotten creature, but she'd appended a chart of temperaments, sleeping schedules, preferred bedding, and a list of dietary requirements that would beggar a moderately successful tradesman. Along with the expected hay, alfalfa, corn, and seed, the animals required several pounds of mince weekly, daily pints of fresh cream, and an ungodly number of sardines.
The steer and thee goat, she insisted, must go to the same loving home. Apparently they were tightly bonded, whatever that meant, and refused to eat of parted.
The laying hens did not actually lay with any regularity. Their previous owners had grown frustrated with this paltry production, and thus they had come into Her Ladyship's care.
And the lucky bastard who accepted a ten-year-old hedgehog? Well, he must not only provide a steady supply of mealworms, but remain ever mindful of certain "traumatic experiences in her youth. ~ Tessa Dare

In prehistoric times, early man was bowled over by natural events: rain, thunder, lightning, the violent shaking and moving of the ground, mountains spewing deathly hot lava, the glow of the moon, the burning heat of the sun, the twinkling of the stars. Our human brain searched for an answer, and the conclusion was that it all must be caused by something greater than ourselves - this, of course, sprouted the earliest seeds of religion. This theory is certainly reflected in faery lore. In the beautiful sloping hills of Connemara in Ireland, for example, faeries were believed to have been just as beautiful, peaceful, and pleasant as the world around them. But in the Scottish Highlands, with their dark, brooding mountains and eerie highland lakes, villagers warned of deadly water-kelpies and spirit characters that packed a bit more punch. ~ Signe Pike

Not in innocence, and not in Asia, was mankind born. The home of our fathers was that African highland reaching north from the Cape to the Lakes of the Nile. Here we came about-slowly, ever so slowly-on a sky-swept savannah glowing with menace. ~ Robert Ardrey

woman's mouth opened and she brandished the rolling pin over her head like a Highland warrior. "PERVERRRRRRRT!" she screamed, and then she ran at him, clubbing him wherever she could reach. Edward ~ Cynthia Hand

Why was she doing this to herself? She was too young to be locked away in this grim castle, weighed down with responsibility that was not hers
to shoulder. She should be at parties, being feted, dancing, and enjoying
herself. Or be surrounded by bairns. My bairns, he thought fiercely. ~ Monica McCarty

You're in love with me? Why have you never said anything?" He demanded.

"No one wants to tell someone she loves him, and have him not say it back," her eyes dropped and she said it so softly he had to strain to hear it. ~ Laura Hunsaker

These things matter. It's tedious, I know. Any writer worth his weight in pulp would by now have set the hero along a definable journey, or at least created some kind of goal against which to measure his progress as we move forward. I assure you, the foundation has been laid. Characters have been established and the scene is set. Dim the lights and let's dance. Who says I'm even the hero? Get off my fucking back. I'm no journalist, I'm a musician, for Christ's sake! Still, the ultimate truth, for our purposes anyway, whether these events are factual or not, is better revealed through the words I choose to describe them. I'd never cheat you of that. I only wish I could see through the back of the page as you make the connections. ~ Gordon Highland

Tell me you doona want this. Tell me that ye didna feel this storm brewing between us since the very first day we met. That a part of ye didna know that this was an inevitability. I knew from the first time I saw ye that it was my destiny to claim ye here in the mists. And ye must take me, Mena ... all of me. Make demands of yer own. Lay claim to the pleasure I'm willing to offer ye. ~ Kerrigan Byrne

Into no other city does the sight of the country enter so far; if you do not meet a butterfly, you shall certainly catch a glimpse of far-away trees upon your walk; and the place is full of theatre tricks in the way of scenery. You peep under an arch, you descend stairs that look as if they would land you in a cellar, you turn to the back-window of a grimy tenement in a lane: - and behold! you are face-to-face with distant and bright prospects. You turn a corner, and there is the sun going down into the Highland hills. You look down an alley, and see ships tacking for the Baltic. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

His mouth slid over her jaw and down her throat, her skin as smooth
and sweet as cream. "God, you taste incredible," he murmured, his tongue
sliding a teasing path along the edge of her bodice. "I want to lick every inch of you. ~ Monica McCarty

I'll keep this part short, because no one truly gives a shit about this kind of stuff, and I'm sure you don't, either. They want to read about someone with more tragic failings than themselves surviving hell to get the girl in the very end. Anything to make their dull existences tolerable, their literary doses coming four minutes at a time on the crapper one-point-seven times per day. By my calculations, that puts you about one week into this story, far too removed emotionally to possibly understand my actions. ~ Gordon Highland

Alone. It was such an insignificant word. Or it had been for centuries. He'd sought out the solitude, had slept away centuries in his cave without hesitation. And now? Now he hated the quiet.
He detested being alone. ~ Donna Grant

Long ago, when faeries and men still wandered the earth as brothers, the MacLeod chief fell in love with a beautiful faery woman. They had no sooner married and borne a child when she was summoned to return to her people. Husband and wife said a tearful goodbye and parted ways at Fairy Bridge, which you can still visit today. Despite the grieving chief, a celebration was held to honor the birth of the newborn boy, the next great chief of the MacLeods. In all the excitement of the celebration, the baby boy was left in his cradle and the blanket slipped off. In the cold Highland night he began to cry. The baby's cry tore at his mother, even in another dimension, and so she went to him, wrapping him in her shawl. When the nursemaid arrived, she found the young chief in the arms of his mother, and the faery woman gave her a song she insisted must be sung to the little boy each night. The song became known as "The Dunvegan Cradle Song," and it has been sung to little chieflings ever since. The shawl, too, she left as a gift: if the clan were ever in dire need, all they would have to do was wave the flag she'd wrapped around her son, and the faery people would come to their aid. Use the gift wisely, she instructed. The magic of the flag will work three times and no more.
As I stood there in Dunvegan Castle, gazing at the Fairy Flag beneath its layers of protective glass, it was hard to imagine the history behind it. The fabric was dated somewhere between the fourth and seventh ~ Signe Pike

This was the Hart Eleanor had known years ago, the one she'd agreed without hesitation to marry. He'd had the body of a god, a smile that melted her heart, a sinful glint in his eyes that had been just for her and her alone. ~ Jennifer Ashley

It was written in those stars that we meet." His voice gathered a tender fervency that unstitched something from inside Mena's soul. "We are bound in some inescapable way, thee and me. I've known it since I first laid eyes on ye in that dress. ~ Kerrigan Byrne