“Then you're dead, too, sweet little sister.'Oh, yes,' said Valentine. 'They'll believe that. "I didn't know it would kill Andrew. And when he was dead, I didn't know it will kill Valentine too.”

“These are valentines for all the boys at school that I like... And this is a very special one for my sweet babboo.""Does your sweet babboo know who he is?""Oh, yes, he knows who he is...""I do not!”

“Son of a bitch. I would kill him. I didn't care if he was Coyote or the son of Satan. He was a dead man walking.”

“But you're dead,' said Harry.'Oh, yes,' said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.'Then... am I dead too?''Ah,' said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. 'That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not.”

“Come on,” he said to Valentine one day. “Let’s fly away and live forever.”“We can’t,” she said. “There are miracles even relativity can’t pull off, Ender.”“We have to go. I’m almost happy here.”“So, stay.”“I’ve lived too long with pain. I won’t know who I am without it.”So they boarded a starship and went from world to world. Wherever they stopped, he was always Andrew Wiggin, itinerant speaker for the dead, and she was always Valentine, historian errant, writing down the stories of the living while Ender spoke the stories of the dead. And always Ender carried with him a dry white cocoon, looking for the world where the hive-queen could awaken and thrive in peace. He looked a long time.”

“He was a very humane killer too, for he would dispatch a beast with one blow of it's talk so that it didn't know (and presumably doesn't know) it had been killed.”