“How come all the harmless people were so lame? Maybe that was the definition of safe.”

“I shook my head. “I don’t think so. This isn’t a good idea. This isn’t right.”“There’s all kinds of right,” he murmured. “On the spectrum, we’re still in the safe zone.” ...“Definitely right. Usually right,” Patch continued. “Mostly right. Maybe right.”

“This makeover would make piercings and tattoos and brandings look so lame, all those little fashion revolts so safe that they themselves only become fashionable. Those little paper tiger attempts to reject looking good that only end up reinforcing it.”

“Faith. Blake had all the faith in the world in him. All these new, different people to protect were starting to scare him. How many fucking people will I have to beat the shit out of to keep them all happy and safe?”

“Peri went to the window, gesturing out at the dragons, perched and flying, everywhere. "Safe, true, but how boring! How confining! How sad! How could that compare with this? And what is safe? You were not safe on your little farm. War came to you and took all your safety away! If I am to be in this world, I want more than to be a hound upon the game board, tucked away in a corner until the jackals come and sweep all away!”

“A Stalin functionary admitted, "Innocent people were arrested: naturally - otherwise no one would be frightened. If people, he said, were arrested only for specific misdemeanours, all the others would feel safe and so become ripe for treason.”