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“Death, cruel and cunning, waited in that gold-flecked onyx stare.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Empire of Storms

“A girl like that does not deserve to be married to a man she does not love!â€�
The doctor stared for a moment, and then burst into quite inexplicable laughter. “Are we still speaking of Helen?� he wheezed after a moment.
“Yes,� snapped the matron, glaring at him.
“Dear me,� said the doctor, removing his glasses and dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Such a circumstance would be very unfortunate � very, very.�
The matron huffed. “The poor child is trapped in a loveless marriage � trust me. I’m a woman.�
“The not-at-all-to-be-pitied girl is married to a man she adores,� the doctor said, smiling. “Trust me. I’m a man, with a wife and three daughters.�
“Adores my eye!�
The doctor replaced his spectacles and spoke very patiently: “Miss Bingham, only a woman who loves remembers what kind of aircraft her man flies.”
― Sarah Brazytis, Lighten Our Darkness

“Deciding to spit in the eye of every homely matron who ever warned her children not to stare into the sun directly, you crank the titanic telescope around to look directly towards the sun, the center of our solar system.”
― Daniel Keidl, Armageddon: Pick Your Plot

“In other households where I'd served, the matron of the house rarely paid me any mind unless something with a meal had gone wrong. Instead, here she was, telling me she was protecting me from the whims of my new master.
She walked around the kitchen, peering into bowls and tasting from the dishes with the tips of her fingers. The rushing slaves slowed when she came near and hardworking scowls turned into smiles of pride when she commented on their work. When a blond wisp of a girl from Germania dropped a basket of apples and they tumbled across the floor, Aelia bent to help her pick them up. She waved off the slaves who came to her side, talking gaily as she and the girl placed the apples back in the basket. "Give the bruised ones out to the other slaves," she said, winking at the girl, who bowed her thanks repeatedly.”
― Crystal King, Feast of Sorrow