Highlander Immortal Quotes & Sayings

But apart from that single expensive item, she stayed away from the high-dollar racks. Luxury was all well and good for a Fae prince, but what would she do with a pair of six-hundred-dollar Gucci boots? She'd be afraid to walk in them. Probably trip and break an ankle or something, and wasn't there some old fairy tale about stolen shoes that punished the thief? She knew better than most people that fairy tales had a twisted way of coming true.
She slipped into jeans and laced up tennis shoes. A sturdy pair of hiking boots went into the satchel.
She was done before he was. Figured. And when he returned, he was wearing dark, tattooed Armani jeans, with a sheer white silk tee and six-hundred dollar Gucci boots.
Which also figured. — Karen Marie Moning

It leaned forward, elbows on its knees, all amusement vanishing from its features, leaving its chiseled visage quietly regal, dignified. "I give you my word, Gabrielle O'Callaghan," it said softly. "I will protect you."
"Right. The word of the blackest fairy, the legendary liar, the great deceiver," she mocked. How dare it offer its word like it might actually mean something?
A muscle leapt in its jaw. "That is not all I have been, Gabrielle. I have been, and am, many things."
"Oh, of course, silly me, I left out consummate seducer and ravager of innocence. — Karen Marie Moning

As his other hand began to slip around her waist, his body brushed against hers, and there was no mistaking the
thick, hard ridge grazing her jean-clad bottom. Heavens, did that thing never subside? The rest of him might be mortal, but his immortal erection certainly didn't scan to have gotten the memo. — Karen Marie Moning

And if that hadn't been enough, the castle cat, obviously female and obviously in heat, had sashayed in, tail straight up and perkily curved at the tip, and wound her furry little self sinuously around Adam's ankles, purring herself into a state of drooling, slanty-eyed bliss. Mr. Black, my ass, she'd wanted to snap (and she liked cats, really she did; she'd certainly never wanted to kick one before, but please - even cats?), he's a fairy and I found him, so that makes him my fairy. Back off.
-Gabby's thought on Adam — Karen Marie Moning

Finally, Dageus finished, and she heard Gwen and Chloe say simultaneously, breathlessly, "Oh, my God."
Gabby opened her eyes.
Drustan had risen to his feet and was scowling, an expression mirrored by his twin. Both were glaring at Adam
whom they obviously could now see. Then at their wives, then back at Adam. — Karen Marie Moning

That part of his body was simply uncontrollable, apparently functioning in accordance to a single law of nature: She existed
he got a hard-on. — Karen Marie Moning

It had taunted, provoked, brushed its big, hard body against hers at every opportunity, and in general lounged about looking like the epically horny fairy it was reputed to be.

~Gabby's thoughts on Adam — Karen Marie Moning

Gwen smiled. "Hardly. Bedraggled is being in the full throes of nicotine withdrawal, and after a week on a bus with a group of senior citizens, falling into a cave, and landing on a body."
"And then getting tossed back a few centuries, with no idea of what's going on," Chloe agreed. "Naked, too, weren't you?"
Gwen nodded wryly.
Gabby blinked.
"I gave you my plaid," Drustan protested indignantly. — Karen Marie Moning

Abruptly, she knew that after this night she was never going to be the same again. Nothing was ever going to be the same. Oh, yes, the man could define himself as the dawning of an epoch if he wanted to. There was, quite simply, before Adam and after Adam. — Karen Marie Moning

My first crush was a sarcastic know-it-all Immortal named Methos, a character from Highlander. To this day I am convinced he is my perfect soulmate. And the focus of my sexual awakening. Lots of people cite the boiler room scene from My So-Called Life, Jareth in Labyrinth, Colin Firth in Pride & Prejudice, or any/all members of the Fellowship of the Ring. But mine happened when Methos rolled out of bed in nothing but boxers to defend his life with a Roman short sword. Unf. — J.M. Frey

She took several slow deep breaths, then, "Okay, what happened to my car?"
"This is your car."
"I may not know much lately," she gritted, "but I do know what I drive. I drive a falling-apart Toyota. A disgustingly powdery-blue one. With lots of rust and no antenna. That is not my car."
"Correction. You used to drive a falling apart Toyota, B.A."
Had his lips just brushed her hair? She shivered, and though she knew better than to ask, she did it anyways. "Okay, you got me, what's 'B.A.'"
"Before Adam. After Adam, you drive a BMW. — Karen Marie Moning

You were firing questions at me today, trying to get inside my head.
You asked if I believed in God.
I told you of course I do- I've always had a strong sense of self.
Your house is quiet now, you're sleeping upstairs and I'm alone with this blasted, idiotic book that purports to tally the sum of my life, and fact is, maybe I do.
But maybe, ka-lyrra, your God doesn't believe in me.
From The (Greatly Revised) Black Edition Of The O'Callaghan Book of the Sin Siriche Du — Karen Marie Moning

Tuatha De do not walk the human realm alone. Actually, they don't walk alone much anywhere. Only the occasional rogue Fae will do so."
"Like yourself?"
"Yes Most of my kind have no fondness for solitude. Those who walk alone are not to be trusted."
"Really," she said dryly.
"Except for me," he amended, with a faint, insouciant grin. — Karen Marie Moning

She'd found the creature she'd seen tonight: Adam Black. The earliest accounts of it were sketchy, descriptions of its various glamours, warnings about its deviltry, cautions about its insatiable sexuality and penchant for mortal women ("so sates a lass, that she is oft incapable of speech, her wits muddled for a fortnight or more." Oh, please. Gabby thought, was that the medieval equivalent of screwing her brains out?), but by the approach of the first millennium, the accounts became more detailed. — Karen Marie Moning

Mister MacKeltar, Drustan corrected for the umpteenth time, with a this-is-really-wearing-thin-but-I'm-determined-to-be-patient smile. No matter how many times he told Farley that he was not a laird, that he was simply Mr. MacKeltar, that it was Christopher (his modern-day descendant who lived up the road in the oldest castle on the land) who was actually laird, Farley refused to hear it. The eighty-something-year-old butler, who insisted he was sixty-two and who had obviously never before buttled in his life until the day he'd arrived on their doorstep, was determined to be a butler to a lord. Period. And he wasn't about to let Drustan interfere with that aspiration. — Karen Marie Moning

What's not right about her, Farley?" she asked curiously.
An annoyed humph. A few ahems, then a thoroughly miffed, "She's a fine enough lass, that is, when one is able to actually look at her, but"
he broke off with a deeply aggrieved sigh and cleared his throat several times before continuing
"'twould appear she's haveing, er ... solidity problems. — Karen Marie Moning

When one sifts place, ka-lyrra, one comes out on top of whatever currently occupies that space. Which isn't much of a problem if one also has all one's powers. But I don't. We hit a lake somewhere around the ninety-seventh hop. And, contrary to popular belief, I don't walk on water."

~Adam to Gabby — Karen Marie Moning

He had a come-and-get-me-baby-I'm-pure-trouble-and-you're-gonna-love-it kind of attitude. — Karen Marie Moning

Her shoes squished with the movement and, as she peered uncomprehendingly down at them, a tadpole emerged from the leg of her jeans and flopped about on the ground.
"Eew!" She pointed a shaking finger at it. "A tadpole. I had a tadpole in my pants!"
"Lucky tadpole," he murmured. — Karen Marie Moning

How dare the embodiment of her worst nightmare come packaged as her hottest fantasy? — Karen Marie Moning

Damn it's good to be me Adam Black on being Adam Black. — Karen Marie Moning

After he'd gone, she'd suffered a momentary, nearly immobilizing flash of panic
what if the Hunters somehow managed to find her while he was gone?
but it dissipated swiftly, leaving her astonished to realize that she truly trust him to keep her safe, at least from everything besides himself. — Karen Marie Moning

And now she was just Gabby, currently staying in a dreamy, magnificent castle in Scotland with a Fae prince who did all kinds of non-nasty, non-inhuman things like tearing up lists of names, and returning tadpoles to lakes, and saving people's lives.
Not to mention kissing with all the otherwordly splendor of a horny angel. — Karen Marie Moning

You're not falling for me, are you, Irish?
-Adam to Gabrielle — Karen Marie Moning

Now it's not just my lip you'll be needing to kiss if you're wishing to make amends with me, Irish. — Karen Marie Moning

There should be a vaccine against Adam Black. And all women should be given it at birth. — Karen Marie Moning

Closing his eyes, he held her tightly and sifted place in a general southerly direction, pushing to the farthest limits his diminished power could carry him. The moment he rematerialized, he instantly sifted again, arms locked around her.
Railroad track. Sift. Grocery store. Keep moving. Roof of a house. Sift. Cornfield. Sift. Cornfield. Sift. Cornfield. Sift. Cornfield. Bloody Midwest. Sift. — Karen Marie Moning

Hunger for me, ka-lyrra, he thought silently, get addicted to me. I will be both venom and antidote, your poison and your only cure. — Karen Marie Moning