I hated the place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all … your … fault!
Thomas: Is it [my brain] fixed? Brenda: It worked, judging from the fact that you're not trying to kill us anymore...
Awww," Minho said. "That's almost as sweet as that time she slammed the end of a spear into your shuck face.
if any of your body parts become detached due to an unfortunate encounter with a crank, I highly advise you leave said body part behind and run like hell. Unless it's a leg, of course.
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 pull...
What was the point of even having a conversation when words couldn't be trusted?
