““I had been too long in a hot land. The skies were always blue and one never escaped from the smell of flowers. I'd have given my life for one clean smell of peat bogs and heather after a cold rain." He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "'Tis a contradictory thing. A man longs for foreign places, yearns for the roll of a deck beneath his feet and the feel of the sea wind, and when he has it he's still not satisfied. A Scot never loves Scotland so much as when he's away from it.””
