Edward holds up a hand for silence. “If you please, Captain: he’s thinking. Let us savor the exquisite rarity of the moment.” - Kage Baker

It was growing dusk, the blue hour when solid things take on a certain transparency and phantoms become palpable.

Isn't that a little hard on him? You're not only making him feel bad about something he didn't do, you're making him feel bad about something that didn't even shracking happen.
I believe churches used to call it original sin, Rutherford agreed, looking crafty. But what does it matter, if it serves to make him a better man?

Privilege tends to soften the brain, or so I’ve observed.