James Dashner

Newt...Do it before I become one of them!I...KILL ME! And then Newt's eyes cleared, as if he'd gained one last trembling gasp of sanity, and his voice softened.Please, Tommy. Please.With his heart falling into a black abyss, Thomas pulled the trigger.

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Thomas had no concept of time as he went through the Changing.It started much like his first memory of the Box— dark and cold. But this time he had no sensation of anything touching his feet or body. He floated in emptiness, stared into a void of black. He saw nothing, heard nothing, smelled nothing. It was as if someone had stolen his five senses, leaving him in a vacuum.Time stretched on. And on. Fear turned into curiosity, which turned into boredom.Finally, after an interminable wait, things began to change.A distant wind picked up, unfelt but heard. Then a swirling mist of whiteness appeared far in the distance— a spinning tornado of smoke that formed into a long funnel, stretching out until he could see neither the top nor the bottom of the white whirlwind. He felt the gales then, sucking into the cyclone so that it blew past him from behind, ripping at his clothes and hair like they were shredded flags caught in a storm.The tower of thick mist began to move toward him— or he was moving toward it, he couldn't tell— increasing its speed at an alarming rate. Where seconds before he'd been able to see the distinct form of the funnel, he now could see only a flat expanse of white.And then it consumed him; he felt his mind taken by the mist, felt memories flood into his thoughts.Everything else turned into pain.

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A small hole in his shirt revealed a gooey red blob right in the meaty part above his armpit, blood pouring from the wound. It hurt. It hurt bad. If he'd thought his headache downstairs had been tough, this was like three or four of those, all smashed into a coil of pain right there in his shoulder. And spreading through the rest of his body.Newt was at his side, looking down with worried eyes."He shot me." It just came out, a new number one on the list of the dumbest things he'd ever said. The pain, like living metal staples running through his insides, pricking and scratching with their little sharp points. He felt his mind going dark for the second time that day.

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He finally pulled it all back into his heart, sucking in the painful tide of his misery. In the Glade, Chuck had become a symbol for him— a beacon that somehow they could make everything right again in the world. Sleep in beds. Get kissed goodnight. Have bacon and eggs for breakfast, go to a real school. Be happy.But now Chuck was gone. And his limp body, to which Thomas still clung, seemed a cold talisman— that not only would those dreams of a hopeful future never come to pass, but that life had never been that way in the first place. That even in escape, dreary days lay ahead. A life of sorrow.His returning memories were sketchy at best. But not much good floated in the muck.Thomas reeled in the pain, locked it somewhere deep inside him. He did it for Teresa. For Newt and Minho. Whatever darkness awaited them, they'd be together, and that was all that mattered right then.

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Her short blond hair shifted in the wind, and she appeared the very definition of peace and comfort. Like she belonged in the world that had existed before everything was scorched.

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Yeah, you're a regular Mozart...well, except for the whole music thing.

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I don't give a crap if you're a Tangent or a really smart llama. You're my friend and that's all that matters

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They called you the GlueThe Glue?Yeah. Probably because you're kind of the glue that holds us all together

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Oh, I'm good. Seriously, after all these years, you'd think I would stop amazing myself. But here I am, still doing it.

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I love the sound of it, Trina whispers, as if speaking too loudly might interrupt the drumming patter of the rain outside. It makes me want to sleep. Snuggle my head right up in your armpit and snore for three days.My armpit? Mark repeats. Good thing we all showered up in the storm this morning. My pits smell like roses. Go ahead and get comfy.

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Shouldn't someone give a pep talk or something?' Minho asked...Go ahead, Newt replied.Minho nodded and faced the crowd. 'Be careful,' he said dryly. 'Don't die.'Thomas would have laughed if he could, but he was too scared for it to come out.'Great. We're all bloody inspired,' Newt answered.

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... sometimes knowing sucked.

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Just go with it', he thought. 'You won't figure out anything if you give in to fear'.

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Shuck it,— Minho responded. "I'm tougher than nails. I could still kick your pony-lovin' butt with twice this pain." Thomas shrugged. —I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now.

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Thomas: Is it [my brain] fixed?Brenda: It worked, judging from the fact that you're not trying to kill us anymore...

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Rose took my nose, I suppose,— he repeated; the bubble of phlegm in his throat made a disgusting crackle. —And it really blows.

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I didn't do anyting wrong. All I know is I saw two people struggling to get inside these walls and they [Minho and Alby] couldn't make it. To ignore that because of some stupid rule seemed selfish, cowardly, and... well, stupid. If you want to throw me in jail for trying to save someone's [Alby] life, then go ahead. Next time I promise I'll point at them and laugh, then go eat some of Frypan's dinner. -Thomas

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I can still kick your pony-lovin' butt with twice this much pain.Thomas shrugged, I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now.

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He whipped out his sheet, then pulled it over himself and wrapped it tightly around his face like an old woman in a shawl. 'How do I look?''Like the ugliest shanky girl I've ever seen,' Minho responded. 'You better thank the gods above you were born a dude.' 'Thanks.

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What's going on? Newt asked, looking back and forth between Thomas and Aris. Why're you guys looking at each other like you just fell in love?

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Quotes by James Dashner