Jacob

“He let her die. You would have gone to the ends of the earth to save your High Lord."
My chest hollowed out again, but I merely said, "Yes I would have," and slipped inside to get ready.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“I dreamed I saw my maternal grandmother sitting by the bank of a swimming pool, that was also a river. In real life, she had been a victim of Alzheimer’s disease, and had regressed, before her death, to a semi-conscious state. In the dream, as well, she had lost her capacity for self-control. Her genital region was exposed, dimly; it had the appearance of a thick mat of hair. She was stroking herself, absent-mindedly. She walked over to me, with a handful of pubic hair, compacted into something resembling a large artist’s paint-brush. She pushed this at my face. I raised my arm, several times, to deflect her hand; finally, unwilling to hurt her, or interfere with her any farther, I let her have her way. She stroked my face with the brush, gently, and said, like a child, “isn’t it soft?” I looked at her ruined face and said, “yes, Grandma, it’s soft.”
― Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief

“He seemed like he would be able to sit in a field near Chernobyl and marvel at the beautiful scenery.”
― Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

“It must be very fragile, if a handful of berries can bring it down.”
― Suzanne Collins, Catching Fire