“How are the internal complications, anyway? Aren’t the other branches of government getting a little suspicious about all these machinations?” “Let’… - Alastair Reynolds

But when she tried to say something, the words always seemed trite and inadequate. Nothing measured up. When any moment might be their last, there was nothing she could ever imagine saying that had the necessary dignity to fill that instant. Silence was better. Silence had its own dignity.

The sense of squandered possibility, of better paths now lost to them all, filled him with a sudden rising sadness. He wondered if it was too late to make something better of their world.

I take it you're not a believer, Meroka?" "Are you?" "I don't believe." He paused theatrically. "In anything. I question. I doubt. I doubt and I doubt consistently and systematically. It's called thinking scientifically." "I hope you understand what the fuck that means," Meroka said, because I sure don't." "I wouldn't expect you to, my dear. The world isn't exactly conducive to scientific thinking. Not in its present condition. But it's changing, and so must we. Those of us who can, anyway.