Prestonpans

Outlander 2×10

Angus: It occurs to me... I'll be leaving Scarlet to ye as well.
Rupert: Scarlet the whore?
Angus: Part-time whore. Full-time barmaid.
Rupert: She's not yours to give, ye daft bastard.
Angus: Well, I'm saying she is. And it's ye I'll be giving her to. Do ye accept?
Rupert: I do not.

Murtagh: In a raid, every man has a part to play. You tell yerself that the raid's success or failure is dependent on yer actions. And if ye're forced to wound a man, kill him even, chances are... ye stare into his eyes when doing it. And if you were to be killed, ye'd die knowing that yer memory would live on within yer clan. Yer death would have meaning. But this... this is different. We're but part of a 2,000 strong army. My death, your death, alone would be meaningless. 500, 1,000 would have to be slain before our deaths take on any meaning.
Jamie: That's not a very comforting thought on the eve of battle.
Murtagh: Aye.

Murtagh: I expected the flavor of victory to taste sweeter.
Jamie: Aye. War tastes bitter, no matter the outcome.

Jamie: Well, Claire, turns out you were right about Prestonpans after all.
Claire: I was, wasn't I? That means... I'm also right about the disaster awaiting us at Culloden.

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