He wouldn’t say pray, as he’d decided long ago not to bother the gods with questions when he didn’t really want to hear the answers. - Lois McMaster Bujold

“If I got assassinated now,” he shrugged helplessly, “my father would kill me.”

We lords, at our oars, then? We sweating, pissing, swearing, grunting gentlemen? I think not, Palli. On the galleys we were not lords or men. We were men or animals, and which proved which had no relation I ever saw to birth or blood. The greatest soul I ever met there had been a tanner, and I would kiss his feet right now with joy to learn he yet lived. We slaves, we lords, we fools, we men and women, we mortals, we toys of the gods — all the same thing, Palli. They are all the same to me now.

"We did it," he muttered to Ekaterin, now perching on the chair arm. "Why didn't anybody stop us? Why aren't there more regulations about this sort of thing? What fool in their right mind would put me in charge of a baby? Two babies?"