“Security, Lieutenant,” Miles said blandly. “I can’t discuss it even with you.” “Security,” she sniffed, “doesn’t hide as much from Accounting as the… - Lois McMaster Bujold

On the thought a blessed silence came, an empty clarity. He took it a first for utter desolation, but desolation was a type of free fall, perpetual and without ground below. This was stillness: balanced, solid, weirdly serene. No momentum to it at all, forward or backwards or sideways.

He lay drained of tension, not moving, and content to be so. The oddly stretched moment was like a bite of eternity, eaten on the run. Was this quiet place inside something new-grown, or had he just never stumbled upon it before? How could so vast a thing lay undiscovered for so long? His breathing slowed and deepened.

“And what guidance did you receive for all your prayers, lady?”
She bit her lip. “None.”

"How had he rehearsed this vitally-important, utterly-critical meeting, again? "Mother, Father, let me introduce — she's getting away!