Still, he was pleased to know that he could recall so much of the play and passed the rest of the journey pleasantly in reciting lines to himself, being careful not to snort.
Diana Gabaldon The Scottish Prisoner
(0 Reviews)

The character in "The Scottish Prisoner" finds joy in his ability to remember lines from a play during his journey. This mental exercise not only entertains him but also provides a form of comfortable distraction as he navigates the trip.

As he recites the lines quietly to himself, he takes care to avoid making any loud noises that might disrupt his thoughts. This attention to his surroundings, coupled with his enjoyment of the play, enhances his overall experience during the journey.

Categories
memory
Book
The Scottish Prisoner
Author
Diana Gabaldon
Votes
0
Page views
19
Update
March 06, 2025
Report
Report a Problem

Rate the Quote

Add Comment & Review

User Reviews

Based on 0 reviews
5 Star
0
4 Star
0
3 Star
0
2 Star
0
1 Star
0
Add Comment & Review
We'll never share your email with anyone else.
More »

Other quotes in The Scottish Prisoner

You asked me if I thought it was worth it. I don't know. But it is my duty, regardless.
Diana Gabaldon The Scottish Prisoner
You asked me if I thought it was worth it. I don't know. But it is my duty, regardless.
Grey shook his head and, wheezing gently, one hand to his bruised ribs, got awkwardly to his feet and hobbled to the wing chair. You could … have helped, he said to Fraser. Ye managed brawly on your own, Fraser assured him gravely, and to his mortification, Grey found that this word of praise gratified him exceedingly.
Diana Gabaldon The Scottish Prisoner
Grey shook his head and, wheezing gently, one hand to his bruised ribs, got awkwardly to his feet and hobbled to the wing chair. You could … have helped, he said to Fraser. Ye managed brawly on your own, Fraser assured him gravely, and to his mortification, Grey found that this word of praise gratified him exceedingly.
He could hear Jamie's breath, or thought he could-it seemed part of the soft wind that touched his face. He could smell Jamie, smell the musk of his body, the dried sweat and dust in his clothes, and felt suddenly wolflike and feral, longing changed to outright hunger. He wanted. Master me, he thought, breathing deep, or shall I your master be?
Diana Gabaldon The Scottish Prisoner
He could hear Jamie's breath, or thought he could-it seemed part of the soft wind that touched his face. He could smell Jamie, smell the musk of his body, the dried sweat and dust in his clothes, and felt suddenly wolflike and feral, longing changed to outright hunger. He wanted. Master me, he thought, breathing deep, or shall I your master be?
John felt the night as something wild creeping upon him, the force of spring itself rising from the ground into his feet, his legs, bursting through his body 'til the blood throbbed in his fingers, pulsed in his chest. Perhaps it was freedom, the exhilaration of their escape. Perhaps the excitement of a hunt by night, adventure and danger before them. Or the knowledge that he was an outlaw-with pursuit and danger certainly behind him.
Diana Gabaldon The Scottish Prisoner
John felt the night as something wild creeping upon him, the force of spring itself rising from the ground into his feet, his legs, bursting through his body 'til the blood throbbed in his fingers, pulsed in his chest. Perhaps it was freedom, the exhilaration of their escape. Perhaps the excitement of a hunt by night, adventure and danger before them. Or the knowledge that he was an outlaw-with pursuit and danger certainly behind him.
Three days before his scheduled departure, he rose in the morning with the conviction that he must speak with Fraser, somehow. Not in the stiff manner of an interview between paroled prisoner and officer of the Crown-simply a few words, as man to man. If he could have that, he could go back to London with an easy heart, knowing that sometime, somewhere, there was the possibility that they might be friends again, even if that time and place could not be here and now.
Diana Gabaldon The Scottish Prisoner
Three days before his scheduled departure, he rose in the morning with the conviction that he must speak with Fraser, somehow. Not in the stiff manner of an interview between paroled prisoner and officer of the Crown-simply a few words, as man to man. If he could have that, he could go back to London with an easy heart, knowing that sometime, somewhere, there was the possibility that they might be friends again, even if that time and place could not be here and now.
They had had no opportunity to speak, though-and he could not seem to invent a pretext, let alone think what he might say if he found one. He felt amazingly self-conscious, like a boy unable to say anything to an attractive girl. He'd be blushing, next thing, he thought, disgusted with himself.
Diana Gabaldon The Scottish Prisoner
They had had no opportunity to speak, though-and he could not seem to invent a pretext, let alone think what he might say if he found one. He felt amazingly self-conscious, like a boy unable to say anything to an attractive girl. He'd be blushing, next thing, he thought, disgusted with himself.
More »

Other quotes in memory

I do not know, nor do I care to remember The time in which I knew distinctly that you were gone You fade in and out of memory Upon which I can not feign to touch Or feel How cruel to leave me With paper but no pen What a way to leave me You give me cups, but not water to fill them So they sit there Empty Your reflection Bouncing to and fro From every surface
Queenbe Monyei
I do not know, nor do I care to remember The time in which I knew distinctly that you were gone You fade in and out of memory Upon which I can not feign to touch Or feel How cruel to leave me With paper but no pen What a way to leave me You give me cups, but not water to fill them So they sit there Empty Your reflection Bouncing to and fro From every surface
It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us... on the inside, looking out.
Jonathan Safran Foer
It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us... on the inside, looking out.
human beings do not perceive things whole; we are not gods but wounded creatures, cracked lenses, capable only of fractured perceptions
Salman Rushdie Imaginary Homelands:...
human beings do not perceive things whole; we are not gods but wounded creatures, cracked lenses, capable only of fractured perceptions
Life, he knew, had meaning and was fully possessed only as it was remembered and reshaped.
Jane Hamilton The Short History of a...
Life, he knew, had meaning and was fully possessed only as it was remembered and reshaped.
Appealing workplaces are to be avoided. One wants a room with no view, so imagination can meet memory in the dark.
Annie Dillard The Writing Life
Appealing workplaces are to be avoided. One wants a room with no view, so imagination can meet memory in the dark.
Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that.You forget some things, dont you?Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.
Cormac McCarthy The Road
Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that.You forget some things, dont you?Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.
More »

Popular quotes

Taffy. He thinks about taffy. He thinks it would take his teeth out now, but he would eat it anyhow, if it meant eating it with her. Mitch Albom
All our human endeavours are like that, she reflected, and it is only because we are too ignorant to realize it, or are too forgetful to remember it, that we have the confidence to build something that is meant to last. Alexander McCall Smith
The Red Lion was a four-ale bar with a handful of lowbrowed sons of toil who looked as though they might be related to one another in ways frowned on by the Old Testament. Sebastian Faulks
The value of money is subjective, depending on age. At the age of one, one multiplies the actual sum by 145,000, making one pound seem like 145,000 pounds to a one-year-old. At seven – Bertie's age – the multiplier is 24, so that five pounds seems like 120 pounds. At the age of twenty four, five pounds is five pounds; at forty five it is divided by 5, so that it seems like one pound and one pound seems like twenty pence. {All figures courtesy of Scottish Government Advice Leaflet: Handling your Money.} Alexander McCall Smith
In fact, none of us knows how he ever managed to get his LLB in the first place. Maybe they're putting law degrees in cornflakes boxes these days. Alexander McCall Smith
Look, if you say that science will eventually prove there is no God, on that I must differ. No matter how small they take it back, to a tadpole, to an atom, there is always something they can't explain, something that created it all at the end of the search. And no matter how far they try to go the other way – to extend life, play around with the genes, clone this, clone that, live to one hundred and fifty – at some point, life is over. And then what happens? When the life comes to an end? I shrugged. You see? He leaned back. He smiled. When you come to the end, that's where God begins. Mitch Albom
Small towns are like metronomes; with the slightest flick, the beat changes. Mitch Albom
You say you should have died instead of me. But during my time on earth, people died instead of me, too. It happens every day. When lightning strikes a minute after you are gone, or an airplane crashes that you might have been on. When your colleague falls ill and you do not. We think such things are random. But there is a balance to it all. One withers, another grows. Birth and death are part of a whole. Mitch Albom
we get so many lives between birth and death. A life to be a child. A life to come of age. A life to wander, to settle, to fall in love, to parent, to test our promise, to realize our mortality-and, in some lucky cases, to do something after that realization. Mitch Albom
But an ink brush, she thinks, is a skeleton key for a prisoner's mind. David Mitchell
All Categories »

Categories

love
inspirational
history
soul