I can love you. I can grieve for you, or with you. I can share your pain. But I cannot judge you. - Lois McMaster Bujold

Vorreedi stated dangerously, “I am not a mushroom, Lieutenant Vorkosigan.”
To be kept in the dark and fed on horseshit, right. Miles sighed inwardly.

“‘Most men,’” he quoted, “‘are of naught more use in their lives but as machines for turning food into shit.’”
Ivan cocked an eyebrow at him. “Who said that? Your grandfather?”
“Leonardo da Vinci,” Miles returned primly. But was compelled to add, “Grandfather quoted it to me, though.”

“Old age,” she said, “is slower than a grenade, but a lot more thorough.”