“Mobs,” Corippus said scornfully. “The bravest bastards in the world, till somebody fights back.” — Harry Turtledove

Research seemed a more profitable way to spend his time than mourning.

His eyes were black and shiny; he had somehow the air of a man who saw things no one else did. Whether those things were actually there, Argyros was not sure.

Beauty was too rare in the world to be wasted.