One step at a time,” Vorkosigan returned grimly, “I can walk around the world. Watch me. - Lois McMaster Bujold

Now there’s this about cynicism, Sergeant. It’s the universe’s most supine moral position. Real comfortable. If nothing can be done, then you’re not some kind of shit for not doing it, and you can lie there and stink to yourself in perfect peace.

“You know what I like best about you, Ivan Xav?” she asked, newly shy in her illumination.
He turned his chin into her hair in an inquiring sort of way. “My shiny groundcar? My Vorish insouciance? My astounding sexual prowess? My…my mother? Dear God, you’re not taking me for the sake of getting my um-stepfather?”
“Well, I do like them both very much, but no. What I like best about you, Ivan Xav, is that you’re nice. And you make me laugh.” She smiled now, into his shoulder.
“That…doesn’t seem like much.” He sounded a bit taken aback.
“Yes,” she sighed, “but consider the context.”

If power was an illusion, wasn’t weakness necessarily one also?