Mick

“Thus she found herself in an office the size of a cupboard sitting opposite Detective-inspector Robinson. He looked quite pleased to see her—‘Call me Jack, Miss Fisher, everyone does’—and offered her a cup of tea. Phryne had tasted police-station tea before, but accepted it anyway.”
― Kerry Greenwood, Flying Too High

“They were black, and made of cheap cotton. One of them was XXXXL. “A vest with words on?” said Buddy. “‘The Band With Rocks In,’” Cliff read, slowly. “Hey, dat’s us, isn’t it?” “What do we want these for?” said Glod. “We know who we are.” “Advertising,” said Dibbler. “Trust me.”
― Terry Pratchett, Soul Music

“Therefore, dear Sir, love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. For those who are near you are far away... and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast.... be happy about your growth, in which of course you can't take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don't torment them with your doubts and don't frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn't be able to comprehend. Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn't necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust.... and don't expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

“Old Riktor was a bit … unsound, y’know. He thought everything came down to numbers.” “Mind you,” said Ponder, “the universe does have a rhythm. Day and night, light and dark, life and death—” “Chicken soup and croutons,” said Ridcully.”
― Terry Pratchett, Soul Music