Rusty

“This is happy! Your face opening is in sad mode. Why, question?”
― Andy Weir, Project Hail Mary

“The Aurora!"
Her wonder was so strong that she had to clutch the rail to keep from falling.
The sight filled the northern sky; the immensity of it was scarcely conceivable. As if from Heaven itself, great curtains of delicate light hung and trembled. Pale green and rose-pink, and as transparent as the most fragile fabric, and at the bottom edge a profound and fiery crimson like the fires of Hell, they swung and shimmered loosely with more grace than the most skillful dancer. Lyra thought she could even hear them: a vast distant whispering swish. In the evanescent delicacy she felt something as profound as she'd felt close to the bear. She was moved by it: it was so beautiful it was almost holy; she felt tears prick her eyes, and the tears splintered the light even further into prismatic rainbows.”
― Philip Pullman, Northern Lights

“..for long years we healers have only sought to patch the rents made by the men of swords. Though we should still have enough to do without them: the world is full enough of hurts and mischances without wars to multiply them. ' 'It needs but one foe to breed a war, not two, Master Warden,' answered Éowyn.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

“Michael fucking Jackson to you too.”
― Claire North, The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August