She had put on make-up in a colour scheme that indicated she might be colourblind.

From a purely physical standpoint she didn't have a chance, but her attitude was that death was better than capitulation.

Dear Government... I'm going to have a serious talk with you if I ever find anyone to talk to.

But she wished she had had the guts to go up to him and say hello. Or possibly break his legs, she wasn't sure which.

Faste knew better than to argue with a doctor, since they were the closest things to God's representatives here on Earth.

He's pulling the load of an ox and walking on eggshells.

Normally seven minutes of another person's company was enough to give her a headache so she set things up to live as a recluse. She was perfectly content as long as people left her in peace. Unfortunately society was not very smart or understanding.