You're the best man I ever met," I said. "I only meant...it's such a strain, to...

You're the best man I ever met," I said. "I only meant...it's such a strain, to try and live for two people. To try to make them fit your ideas of what's right...You do it for a child, of course, you have to, but even then, it's dreadfully hard work. I couldn't do it for you - it would be wrong even to try."
I'd taken him back more than a little. He sat for some moments, his face turned half away. Do ye really think me a good man?" he said at last. There was a queer note in his voice, that I couldn't quite decipher.
Yes," I said, with no hesitation. Then added, half jokingly, "Don't you?"
After a long pause, he said, quite seriously, "No, I shouldna think so."
I looked at him speechless, no doubt with my mouth hanging open.
I am a violent man, and I ken it well," he said quietly. He spread his hands out on his knees; big hands, which could wield a sword and dagger with ease, or choke the life from a man. " So do you - or ye should."
You've never done anything you weren't forced to do!"
No?"
I don't think so." I said, but even as I spoke, a shadow of doubt clouded my words. Even when done from the most urgent necessity, did such things not leave a mark on the soul? {Claire Fraser & Jamie Fraser. Drums of Autumn}