She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a tiny, bloody angel in the snow, and they were going to destroy her.

Sam: “I—it’s—I’m not an animal.

For among these winters there is one so endlessly winter that only by wintering through it will your heart survive.
- Rilke

It's very ugly' I said generously. 'But it looks as though it would laugh at snow. And, if you hit a deer it would hiccup, and keep going.

Is this how we make our way to death? Blue wondered. A stumbling fade-out instead of a self-aware finale?

Would we be so enamored with dystopian fiction if we lived in a culture where violent death was a major concern? It wouldn't be escapism.