“Are you dying?"Cato lit his cigarette. "It's not acute, perhaps, but we're all dying, Harry.”

“Survival is the celebration of choosing life over death. We know we're going to die. We all die. But survival is saying: perhaps not today. In that sense, survivors don't defeat death, they come to terms with it.”

“Since we're all going to die, it's obvious that when and how don't matter.”

“IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, HARRY!”

“We're going to die. We're going to die...""We're not going to die," he barks. "Do YOU want to drive?"My head shakes violently. "No way.""Then stop...side seat driving!”

“Not Really," he said then lit a cigarette and handed it to me. I inhaled. Coughed. Wheezed. Gasped for breath. Coughed again. Considered vomiting. Grabbed the swinging bench, head spinning, and threw the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it, convinced my Great Perhaps did not involve cigarettes.”