“What's the point of living if you're going to hate the world? Guard your heart if you have to, but don't shut it away.”

“I don't know what happens to our consciousness when we're unwound," says Connor. "I don't even know when that consciousness starts. But I do know this." He pauses to make sure all of them are listening. "We have a right to our lives!"The kids go wild."We have a right to choose what happens to our bodies!"The cheers reach fever pitch."We deserve a world where both those things are possible— and it's our job to help make that world.”

“...Our conversation with the supermarket manager had been about as helpful as a New Jersey road sign, and if you've ever been there, you know the signs don't tell you the exit you're coming up to, they only point out the exits you've just missed. It puts parents in very foul moods--and since you're probably there to visit relatives, their mood was pretty touch and go to begin with.”

“When I touched that boy, I felt something. Something awful. Something I can’t describe.”“We all felt it,” Nick said.“You may have felt it, but I caused it.” Then both his eyes seemed to go far away. “Something changed out there. I don’t know what it was, but something in the world changed because that kid didn’t deserve what I did to him—and the powers that be know that I did it.” Nick watched as a tear fell from his Everlost eye and disappeared through the living world table.“What if,” said Nick, not even sure what he was going to say yet, “what if you were that kid and you were told you could change the world, but you would have to sacrifice yourself to do it?”Clarence chuckled at the thought. “I believe that question was already asked a long time ago, and that creepy kid did not look anything like Jesus to me.”“But you do think that something changed. . . .”“I don’t know whether it’s good or bad.”“What if it’s neither?” suggested Nick. “What if we get to make it one or the other?”

“Live by your impulses, and you'll be just like them. You're better than that, aren't you, Red?”

“Already Roland feels his limbs starting to go numb. He swallows hard."I hate this. I hate you. I hate all of you.""I understand.”

“I love you, Brew." "No you don't," he said. "Just shut up and take it," I told him. He smiled. "Okay.”