To whom had he retailed his conscience, Sandra wondered, and what was the going price these days? - Robert Charles Wilson

The world is what it is and won’t be bargained with.

What are you saying, you think he's completely sane?"
"No. But I'm not sure any of us rises to that standard.

What was time, after all, except a lead-footed march from the precincts of youth into the country of the grave? Time was the force that crumbled granite, devoured memory, and seduced infants into senility—as implacable as a hanging judge and as poetic as a tank.