To celebrate Halloween, enjoy some of my favorite spooky/supernatural Outlander series quotes. Do you have favorites that I missed?
“They say I’m a witch,” she said, widening her brilliant eyes in feigned astonishment. She grinned. “But my husband’s the procurator fiscal for the district, so they don’t say it too loud.”
—Geillis Duncan in Outlander, Chapter 9
Some say the hill is enchanted, others say it is cursed. Both are right.
—Claire in Dragonfly in Amber, Prologue
“Witch I am. Witch, and I curse you.”
“I curse you with knowledge, Jack Randall- I give you the hour of your death.”
—Claire in Outlander, Chapter 35
“The White Lady,” he murmured. “She is called a wisewoman, a healer. And yet… she sees to the center of a man, and can turn his soul to ashes, if evil be found there.”
—Magnus the Butler in Dragonfly in Amber, Chapter 20
“I don’t suppose you’d be inclined to tell me who-or what-you are?”
I hesitated for a moment. But a man with belief in neither God nor Devil was not likely to believe the truth of my presence here, either. I squeezed his fingers lightly and released them.
“Better call me a witch,” I said. “It’s as close as you’re likely to get.”
—Claire & Colum in Dragonfly in Amber, Chapter 37
Being a prophet was a very uncomfortable occupation, I thought, not for the first time. I felt considerable sympathy with Jeremiah and his Lamentations. I also realized exactly why Cassandra was so unpopular. Still there was no help for it. On the crest of a Scottish hill, the night wind of an autumn storm whipping my hair and skirts like the sheets of a banshee, I turned my face to the shadowed skies and prepared to prophesy.
—Claire in Outlander, Chapter 33
“I thought that was perhaps how some ghosts were made; where a will and a purpose had survived, heedless of the frail flesh that fell by the wayside, unable to sustain life long enough.”
—Claire in Dragonfly in Amber, Chapter 45
I felt a slight ruffling of my hair, and one lock brushed against my cheek, light as a lover’s touch. But surely it was no more than the rush of air from the vent overhead, and my imagination that the stale smells of perfume and cigarettes were suddenly underlaid by the scents of wool and heather.
—Claire in Voyager, Chapter 18
I looked down and saw a layer of fallen rowan berries, gleaming red and black among the grass. Very appropriate, I thought, vaguely amused. I had fallen down under a rowan—the Highland protection against witchcraft and enchantment.
—Claire in Voyager, Chapter 24
I wasn’t, thank heaven, subject to noticing supernatural phenomena of that sort. No, I thought wryly, it takes something like a crack through time to get your attention.
—Claire in Voyager, Chapter 36
I think if I’d heard that outside my window, I’d have spent the rest of the night hiding under the bedclothes.”
“Oh, I usually did,” Roger assured her. “Though once, when I was seven or so, I got up my nerve, stood up on the bed and peed on the windowsill—the Reverend had just told me that pissing on the doorposts is supposed to keep a ghost from coming in the house.”
Claire laughed delightedly, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “Did it work?”
“Well, it would have worked better had the window been open,” Roger said, “but the ghosts didn’t come in, no.”
—Roger & Claire in Voyager, Chapter 22
“What the devil—or perhaps I shouldna use that particular expression, wi’ respect to Mistress Duncan.”
“Perhaps he’s come to exorcise her,” I suggested, with a nervous laugh. “He’s his work cut out for him, if so.”
—Jamie & Claire in Voyager, Chapter 60
It means ‘half-ghost,’ one who should have died by right, but yet remains on the earth; a woman who survives a mortal illness, a man fallen into his enemies’ hands who escapes. They say an asgina ageli has one foot on the earth and the other in the spirit world. He can talk to the spirits, and see the Nunnahee—the Little People.”
—Stephen Bonnet in Drums of Autumn, Chapter 2
“What do you want?” I said again, feeling helpless. “I can’t do anything for you. I know you’re there; I can see you. But that’s all.”
Nothing moved, no words were spoken. But quite clearly the thought formed in my mind, in a voice that was not my own. That’s enough, it said.
—Claire in Drums of Autumn, Chapter 23
This is the grimoire of the witch, Geillis. It is a witch’s name, and I take it for my own; what I was born does not matter, only what I will make of myself, only what I will become.
—Geillis Duncan in Drums of Autumn, Chapter 32
“I think—” he began, then stopped. Would she think him daft? But she was looking up at him, wanting him to say. “The spirits that live there,” he said, a little awkwardly. “They are auld, and they’ve seen men for thousands on thousands of years; they ken us weel, and they’re none so wary of showing themselves. What lives here”—he laid a hand on the trunk of a chestnut tree that rose a hundred feet above them, whose girth measured more than thirty feet around—“they havena seen our like before.”
She nodded, seeming not at all taken back.
“They’re curious, though, aren’t they,” she said, “some of them?” and tipped back her head to look up into the dizzy spiral of the branches overhead. “Don’t you feel them watching, now and then?”
“Now and then.”
—Jamie & Brianna in Drums of Autumn, Chapter 42
He could imagine himself some demon of the air, taking wing to haunt the dreams of a man, seize upon a sleeping body and ride it- could he fly as far as England? he wondered. Was the night long enough?
—Lord John in Lord John and the Succubus
The abbot turned the bowl, holding it sideways so that the lantern light illumined the dish. The cold grue slid right down the backs of Jamie’s legs, and he shuddered. The carving showed what was plainly a standing stone—cleft down the center.
—Jamie in The Scottish Prisoner, Chapter 19
“sometimes the stolen ones come back. But they come back two hundred years later. And all—all they knew and loved—are dead.”
“How terrible,” John said quietly. He could hear Fraser’s breathing, heavy, like a man struggling against tears, and wondered why this aspect of the tale should move him so.
—Jamie in The Scottish Prisoner, Chapter 28
And neatly, as neatly as a man could print with a finger dipped in his own blood, he had written the word “TEIND” on the wall above his shabby cot. A tithe to hell.
—Jamie in The Scottish Prisoner, Chapter 36
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