“The quick and the dead are all the same. Everyone's just looking for home.”

“End of the day, the quick and the dead are the same. Everyone's just looking for a home.”

“After all, tragedy didn't discriminate, so everyone was subject to the same whims of fate.”

“Or, God, maybe this was just life. For everyone on the planet. Maybe the Survivor's Club wasn't something you "earned," but simply what you were born into when you came out of your mother's womb. Your heartbeat put you on the roster and then the rest of it was just a question of vocabulary: the nouns and verbs used to describe the events that rocked your foundation and sent you flailing were not always the same as other people's, but the random cruelties of disease and accident, and the malicious focus of evil men and nasty deeds, and the heartbreak of loss with all its stinging whips and rattling chains... At the core, it was all the same.”

“Come here. I need to hold on to you." She felt the same way. And when there was no distance between them, it was like coming home.”

“Quick question. Does this magical skill with gray matter come with a total lack of compunction for your kind, or is it just you who were born without a conscience?V: I beg your pardon?”

“The deadweight of his body,coupled with the aches, made him remember back to a time when he'd gotten colds or flus. Same feeling. Was it possible he was getting sick?Made him wonder if anyone had come up with a product like Dead-quil or some shit.Probably not.”