“Thomas had a depressing - and scary - thought. 'Am I . . . replacing someone? Did somebody get killed?'Minho shook his head. 'No, we're just training you - someone'll want a break. Don't worry, it's been a while since a Runner was killed.'For some reason that last statement worried Thomas, though he hoped it didn't show on his face.”

“Minho looked at Thomas, a serious expression on his face. "If I don't see you on the other side," he said in a sappy voice, "remember that I love you.”

“He shook his head, trying to shake the convoluted thoughts loose. He couldn't worry about it right now. Not about how Thomas felt, or how Quinn did, or even how he, himself did. They were where they were, and there were things to do. First and foremost, there was a baby to deliver.”

“What did you do to this?' he asked in a horrorstruck voice.'It didn't want to come out of the dashboard.''So you felt the need to torture it?''You know how I am with tools. No pain was inflicted intentionally.'He shook his head, his face a mask of faux tragedy. 'You killed it.”

“Thomas Jefferson once said, 'We should never judge a president by his age, only by his works.' And ever since he told me that, I stopped worrying.”

“Frostpine made a face. Lifting the cup, he dumped its contents down his throat. “Auugghh!” he yelled, his voice stronger than it had been since his return from the harbor. "Are you trying to kill me, woman?""If I mean to kill someone, I do it," Rosethorn told him. "I don't try.”