He loathed letting her push his buttons; still, she had a valid point: cover-your-ass was a fundamental rule for survival even of the fittest. - Lois McMaster Bujold

I’d sent to my superiors in Whippoorwill twice, but have got no reply yet. And written to the divines in the neighbor vales. One said he could not help, and the other…was less helpful.” Gallen grimaced. “My prayers have fared no better.”

I'm not getting it all sorted, she worried. I'm not getting it right.
You are brilliant, the Voice reassured her.
It is imperfect.
So are all things trapped in time. You are brilliant, nonetheless. How fortunate for Us that We thirst for glorious souls rather than faultless ones, or We should be parched indeed, and most lonely in Our perfect righteousness. Carry on imperfectly, shining Ista.

“Now, you had that doctorate in Barrayaran history. Do any really interesting District succession squabbles spring to your memory?”
“Lord Midnight the horse,” Galeni replied at once. “Who always voted ‘neigh.’”