“Your face is my heart”
“Your face is my heart Sassenach, and the love of you is my soul”
“And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.”
“I've got a better idea. I'll stay here and you can sit on my face while I eat my way to your heart.”
“Is your face a beautiful blossomor a sweet torture?I have no complaintsbut my heart is temptedto let youhear of its sorrows.”
“I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And Sassenach," he whispered, "Your face is my heart.”