Children of Memory (Children of Time, #3)

by Adrian Tchaikovsky

She does see smiles – big bared-teeth smiles – and they’re mostly amongst the militiamen with the guns, who are just ecstatic at the adrenaline rush all this exercising of their power is giving them. They jostle and joke amongst themselves, and whoop and say in over-loud voices how this’ll show them. She knows they don’t even know who they are. But that’s not important once you’ve decided there’s an us and a them. Only the fact of the division matters.

you might as well buy a dog and bark yourself,’

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.