Such corruption feeds on its own success when it meets no correction. - Lois McMaster Bujold

“Is this guy for real?”
“He thinks he’s faking it,” said Suegar blandly, “but he’s not.”

Poets speak of hope in ladies smiles, but give me a smirk any day, I say.

He had been the end point of human evolution. At this moment he abruptly felt more like a missing link. I thought I knew everything. Surely I knew nothing. How had his own life become such a surprise to him, so utterly rearranged? His brain had whirled with a thousand plans for these tiny lives, visions of the future both hopeful and dire, funny and fearful. For a moment, it seemed to come to a full stop. I have no idea who these two people are going to be.