“Be fond of the man who jests at his scars, if you like; but never believe he is being on the level with you.”

“A Poem for a Trick Roses are red,Violets are blueDumb ass nigguh I was never in love with UI peeped your game from the startThat's why I never let you inside my heartcouldn't let you tear it apartdumb bitch easy trick you made the mistake when you fell in loveThen you had nerves to go around behind my back callin' me a trickWhile I went around your small dickRoses are redViolets are blueDumb punk ass nigguh I used U”

“I...I've never met a man like you."He chuckled, a broad grin on his face. "Of that, my lady, I'm certain.”

“You think to judge me, MacKinnon? I've littered the ground wi' the corpses of men like you."Iain raised his blade and smiled. "You've never met a man like me.”

“Some part of him had hoped that a woman might one day see beyond his scars to the man he was inside. But Megan was doing more than just ignoring his ugliness. She was _accepting_ it with a woman's gentleness, her touch soothing memories of savage pain, grief, loneliness.”

“If you think your scars bother me, you're wrong. In my eyes, you're a hero. Your scars are just proof of that.”

“We had different lives. We come from different places.""Surely ye do. And you got different bodies, too. That's what marriage is about, Meggie-gal, making differences intertwine into something whole and new."Meggie didn't want to argue. "He didn't love me, Pa," she said."I'll believe that when I see coons a-taking up farming," the old man answered. He raked his hair with his hands helplessly. "What do ye think love is, Meggie. Do you think it's heart pounding and breath stealing and verse reciting?" he asked. "Yes, ma'am, there is some of that involved, but mostly love is quiet and caring and friendlylike. It's wanting to tell that person something afore you whisper it to another soul. It's not being alone.”