“I have no idea,' he tells her, and there is such a spark in his eye when he says it, she can tell having no idea is exactly the way he wants it.”

“[...] every time he forces himself to think before acting, it's her voice in his head telling him to slow down. He wants to tell her, but she's always so busy in the medical jet—and you don't just go to somebody and say, "I'm a better person because you're in my head.”

“I turn to our father, searching for an ally. "So Dad, is it legal for Bronte to date out of her species?"Dad looks up from his various layers of pepperoni and breadless cheese. "Date?" he says. Apparently the idea of Bronte dating is like an electromagnet sucking away all other words in the sentence, so that's the only word he hears."You're not funny," Bronte says to me."No, I'm serious," I tell her. "Isn't he like... a Sasquatch or something?""Date?" says Dad.”

“Milestone! This is a momentous occasion," he tells her cheerily. "It should be witnessed by a friend." She throws him an icy gaze, and he does a verbal back pedal. "Aaaand since no friends are present, I'll have to do.”

“Don’t I have a choice in this?” But when she looks behind her, the answer isclear. There are two guards waiting to make sure that she has no choice at all.And as they lead her away, she thinks of Mr. Durkin. With a bitter laugh, Risarealizes that he may get his wish after all. Someday he may see her hands playingin Carnegie Hall. Unfortunately, the rest of Risa won’t be there.”

“... "Keep your eyes on the prize," although I think he should have also said "Go after the prize," too; and maybe that's why prizes ever came his way, because all he ever did was look at them.”

“What if . . . what if . . ."What if it's a harvest camp after all?" says Emby. Connor doesn't tell him to shut up this time, because he's thinking the same thing.It's Diego who answers him. "If it is, then I want my fin gers to go to a sculptor. So he can use them to craft something that will last forever."They all think about that. Hayden is the next to speak."If I'm unwound," says Hayden, "I want my eyes to go to a photographer — one who shoots supermodels. That's what I want these eyes to see.""My lips'll go to a rock star," says Connor."These legs are definitely going to the Olympics.""My ears to an orchestra conductor.""My stomach to a food critic.""My biceps to a body builder.""I wouldn't wish my sinuses on anybody."And they're all laughing as the plane touches down.”