The Prisoner of Limnos (Penric and Desdemona, #6)

by Lois McMaster Bujold

To convert Nikys’s I fear they know too much to I hope they know enough had only taken one cryptic note.

Adelis is not the sort of man who inspires poisoning. He’s the sort of man who inspires hitting on the head with a skillet.”

It’s all in whether the given action fills a person or empties them, leaving room for a god to enter.

The gods have no hands but ours,

Penric smiled and advanced, feeling dimly that the first thing a man said to his intended’s respected mother probably shouldn’t be Quick, take your clothes off!

Nikys wondered if she had just traded a gold coin for a gold coin.

Memory alteration fiddled not only with free will but with the very essence of a soul, and thus bordered on sacrilege.

he’d decided long ago not to bother the gods with questions when he didn’t really want to hear the answers.

One gives you the shirt off his back, mused Des, and the other offers to help you bury bodies. I do believe you have made some new friends, Pen!

Happiness handed around and around, never stopping. It wasn’t something one could hoard tight like a miser. That would be like trying to hold one’s breath for later.