James dashner quotes

He didn't have a single clue what was going on with these two strangers, but every instinct told him Master George equaled good, Mistress Jane equaled bald- he blinked-uh, bad.

Thomas hated the people who'd taken this poor, innocent kid form his family. He hated them with a passion he didn't know a human could feel. He wanted them dead, tortured, even. He wanted Chuck to be happy. But happiness had been ripped form their lives. Love had been ripped from their lives.

Tomorrow," Minho added. "Somehow, some way.

The girl leaned forward and kissed Thomas on the cheek. “You’re sweet. I really hope we don’t end up killing you, at least.

You’re disgusting when you eat,” Chuck said, sitting on the bench next to him. “It’s like watching a starving pig eat his own klunk.

In other words, a considerable portion of your extraordinary gift comes from the simple fact that you very much want to do good." -Master George

Minho looked at Thomas, a serious expression on his face. "If I don't see you on the other side," he said in a sappy voice, "remember that I love you.

Thoughts of the girl crashed around his mind, made him remember the connection he felt. A sadness washed over him, as if he missed her, wanted to see her. That doesn't make sense, he thought. I don't even know her name.

But first, my friends, I need you to do something for me. We have two spies in the back of the auditorium.

And then they were kissing. Something exploded within his chest burning away the tension and confusion and fear. Burning away the hurt of seconds earlier. For a moment it felt like nothing mattered anymore. Like nothing would matter ever again.

Quit voting me down before you even think about what I'm saying.

He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and ripped it open, then took out the slip of paper. The soft lights that ringed the mirror lit up the message in a warm glow. It was two short sentences: " KILL ME. IF YOU'VE EVER BEEN MY FRIEND, KILL ME.

Ah, my Knight in Shining Armor. What, you don't think I can fend for myself?

i felt her absence. it was like waking up one day with no teeth in your mouth. you wouldn't need to run to the mirror to know they were gone

I'm gonnna break your faces!

I don't give a crap if you're a Tangent or a really smart llama. You're my friend and that's all that matters

Yeah, right," Minho said. "And Frypan's gonna start having little babies, Winston'll get rid of his monster acne, and Thomas here'll actually smile for once." Thomas turned to Minho and exaggerated a fake smile. "There, you happy?" "Dude," he responded. "You are one ugly shank.

In my early writing, all of my characters were exactly the same person. They all spoke the same, made the same types of jokes, reacted the same, etc. I think they were all just me in disguise.

Come on," Alec said, already stomping down the ramp. "Let's find us a squirrel." He swept the weapon back and forth as he walked, looking for any interlopers. "Or better yet, one of the crazies who might've strayed over here. Too bad these things have to be charged or we could get rid of this virus problem in a jiffy. Sweep these old neighborhoods nice and clean." Mark joined him on the ground below the Berg, wary that someone might be watching from the ruined homes surrounding them or from the burnt woods beyond those. "Your value of human life brings tears to my eyes," he muttered.

What would I do without you? I'd die of stress and depression before nature killed me.

Get your runtcheeks down those stairs, right now

What was the point of even having a conversation when words couldn't be trusted?

I'm a Crank. I'm slowly going crazy. I keep wanting to chew off my own fingers and randomly kill people.

I don't think there is a right or wrong anymore. Only horrible and not-quite-so-horrible.

Thats called hypocrisy, you shuck face piece of -!

You’re so sweet,' Frypan said with a snort. 'Go ahead and die with Thomas. I think I’ll sneak away and enjoy living with the guilt.

He turned to look just in time to see the rain start falling out as if the storm had finally decided to weep with shame for what it had done to them.

Everything is going to change.

You scared of that pip-squeak? Dude, you got a lot to learn. Freakin' Newbies.

Maybe you should just press the button

I just...feel like I need to save everyone. To redeem myself.

To practice - write each and every day if possible - then try to attend professional writer's conferences where you can learn your craft, get to know fellow writers, and meet editors and agents.

Frozen by fear. Not able to move. Your mind screaming

Do books about the Holocaust make us think, "Oh well, there was nothing we could've done to prevent that or prevent it from happening again"? Of course not. It makes us angry and determined to stop such atrocities.

KILL ME!" And then Newt's eyes cleared, as if he'd gained one last trembling gasp of sanity, and his voice softened. "Please, Tommy. Please." With his heart falling into a black abyss, Thomas pulled the trigger.

She smiled for the first time, and he almost had to look away, as if something that nice didn’t belong in such a glum and gray place, as if he had no right to look at her expression.

I really love middle-grade. Middle-grade books have a little more of a magical, light-hearted feel. You can be a little bit more quirky, you can have a little more humor. It doesn't get so dark and deep.

I ought to come up there and break your shuck nose.

Next time I'll pat you on the freaking back for stating the obvious.

Can you do that?” Thomas asked. “Huh?” “Kill someone three times.” “I’d figure out a way.

Shouldn't someone give a pep talk or something?" Minho asked, pulling Thomas's attention away from Alby. "Go ahead," Newt replied. Minho nodded and faced the crowd. "Be careful," he said dryly. "Don't die.

Rose took my nose, I suppose

I've always had high ambitions and aspirations.

Just follow me and run like your life depends on it. Because it does.

Can’t take a chance that one day, in one spot, somewhere, an exit might appear. We can’t give up. Ever.

Your demons are always with you, Skale answered. His voice seemed even raspier than the day before. Don't you understand that by now? Always with you, impossible to escape. But you never can guess how they might manifest themselves.

There are so many things hinted at that will be fun to reveal in depth. For years, fans have made it abundantly and enthusiastically clear that they want the same thing, so now seems like the perfect time to give readers the story of how the Maze began.

If you're going to decipher a hidden code from a complex set of different mazes, I'm pretty sure you need a girl's brain running the show.

I don't think anything's more rewarding than hearing that you've helped someone gain a love of reading.

Thomas swallowed, wondering how he could ever go out there. His desire to become a Runner had taken a major blow. But he had to do it. Somehow he KNEW he had to do it. It was such an odd thing to feel, especially after what he'd just seen... Thomas knew he was a smart kid- he somehow felt it in his bones. But nothing about this place made any sense. Except for one thing. He was supposed to be a Runner. Why did he feel that so strongly? And even now, after seeing what lived in the maze?

I think Judy Blume, Stephen King, and Dean Koontz are the three authors responsible for my being where I am today. I owe them a lot.

The Creators,” Minho said; then he spat on the floor. “I’m gonna break your faces!

Wonder why we can do this,' he called out with his mind. The mental effort of speaking to her was already straining—he felt a headache forming like a bulge in his brain. 'Maybe we were lovers,' Teresa said. Thomas tripped and crashed to the ground. Smiling sheepishly at Minho, who’d turned to look without slowing, Thomas got back up and caught up to him. 'What?' he finally asked. He sensed a laugh from her, a watery image full of color.

It was you and me, Tom. We did this to them. To us.

He whipped out his sheet, then pulled it over himself and wrapped it tightly around his face like an old woman in a shawl. 'How do I look?' 'Like the ugliest shanky girl I’ve ever seen,' Minho responded. 'You better thank the gods above you were born a dude.' 'Thanks.

I was just kidding, shuck-face," Minho said. "Let's all go over there. She could have an army of psycho girl ninjas hiding in that shack of hers." "Psycho girl ninjas?" Newt repeated, his voice showing he was surprised, if not annoyed, by Minho's additude.

I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now.

You'll work hard to create characters that are compelling and unforgettable. But in the end, it's the story that matters.

All the same, Thomas now had a plan. As bad as it was, he had a plan. They needed more clues about the code. They needed MEMORIES. So he was going to get stung by a Griever. Go through the Changing. On purpose.

But there was something about the largest object in the solar system vanishing that tended to disrupt normal schedules.

Sometimes what works in a book is too "in your face" when converted to the big screen and sound.

If you ain’t scared… you ain’t human.

What's going on?" Newt asked, looking back and forth between Thomas and Aris. "Why're you guys looking at each other like you just fell in love?

I've always been fascinated by quantum physics and the possibility of alternate realities.

I'd love to see that rat nose smashed!

Awww," Minho said. "That's almost as sweet as that time she slammed the end of a spear into your shuck face.

The betrayal meant he couldn't trust her anymore, and his heart told him he couldn't forgive her.

Things are really weird around here, and most of us don't know everything. Half of everything.

Down the road a bit, I would like to write a couple of stand-alone adult novels, especially in the horror genre. I've got lots of things up my sleeve.

She paused. That's just my way of saying I would've killed you if you'd died.

Hunger. It's like an animal trapped inside you, Thomas thought.

When I'm feeling a little empty in the head, I like to go see movies or read to loosen things up there.

Vince couldn't stop talking, spilling thoughts that had obviously churned inside him for years. "We could've stopped the spread of the disease a lot better than we've been able to cure the disease... Thought the magical cure would save them in the end. But if we wait any longer we'll run out of people to save.

Whatever had happened to him [Newt] out there — maybe even related to his lingering ankle injury — had been truly awful.

Dude, you tried to slice my you-know-what's off!" Thomas laughed, something that he hadn't done in a long time. He welcomed it happily. "Too bad I didn't. Could've saved the world from future little Minhos.

Good try, ya bugging shank. The Gathering elects Runners, and if you think I'm tough, they'd laugh in your face.

Thomas: Is it [my brain] fixed? Brenda: It worked, judging from the fact that you're not trying to kill us anymore.

When someone is close by, you just know it.

I'm inspired by almost everything I come across in life, and one way or another they find themselves sneaking into my stories.

When it comes to individual destiny, there is no power greater in the universe then the conviction of the human soul to make a choice.

I've been shucked and gone to heaven.

I think we should take a break, fill our little tummies and drink up.

I sent a lot of publishing ideas to my publisher, about 30 of them. Each time except 3, i got a "rejection letter". This is basically what a rejection letter is like: Hello Pathetic Moron, We read your book. It sucked. Don't send us another one. If you do, we will run over your grandmother with a bus. Don't Do It. From, Your Publisher

Thomas jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. "You met our new friend?" Miho responded, a smirk flashing across his face. "Real piece of work, this guy. I gotta get me one of those shuck suits. Fancy stuff." "Am I awake?" Thomas asked. "You're awake. Now eat—you look horrible. Almost as bad as Rat Man over there, reading his book.

We'll start firing till they drop or we drop.

Bluh-huh-huh" Minho groaned, a shudder of repulsion, like he'd just stepped in a pile of klunk.

All things happen for a purpose.

Just go with it', he thought. 'You won't figure out anything if you give in to fear'.

Yeah, you're a regular Mozart...well, except for the whole music thing.

Sometimes they do things to make me do the opposite of what they think, I think, they think, I am going to do.

...You'd think the little part about them supposedly killing us would be the attention getter.

Kill me. If you’ve ever been my friend, kill me.

Tonight, they’d make their stand, once and for all.

Movement from Brenda grabbed Thomas's attention. He looked to see her drop the knife away from Minho and step back, absently wiping the small trace of blood there on her pants. "I really would've killed you, ya know," she said in a slightly scratchy voice. Almost husky. "Charge Jorge again and I'll sever an artery." Minho wiped at his small wound with his thumb, then looked at the bright red smear. "That's one sharp knife. Makes me like you more.

Such a display of death - how could it be considered a victory?

I promised I'd save him, take him home! I promised him!" . . . Thomas hugged Chuck to his chest, squeezed him as tightly as possible, as if that could somehow bring him back, or show thanks for saving his life, for being his friend when no one else would. Thomas cried, wept like he'd never wept before. His great, racking sobs echoed through the chamber like the sounds of tortured pain. (pg 358 hardback)

I watched as that kid died. In his last few seconds there was pure terror in his eyes. You can't do that. You can't do that to a person. I don't care what anybody tells me, I don't care how many people go crazy and die, I don't care if the whole shuck human race ends. Even if that was the only thing that had to happen to find the cure, I'd still be against it.

Thomas had a depressing - and scary - thought. 'Am I . . . replacing someone? Did somebody get killed?' Minho shook his head. 'No, we're just training you - someone'll want a break. Don't worry, it's been a while since a Runner was killed.' For some reason that last statement worried Thomas, though he hoped it didn't show on his face.

She and Thomas had helped construct the Maze; at the same time she’d exerted a lot of effort to build a wall holding back her emotions.

You get lazy, you get sad. Start givin' up. Plain and simple.

Listen,' Thomas said, slowly getting to his feet, hoping Minho wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything. “There’s something about us. We’re not just random shanks who showed up on your doorstep. We’re valuable. Alive, not dead.” The anger on Jorge’s face lessened ever so slightly. Maybe a spark of curiosity. But what he said was 'What’s a shank?

You are the shuckiest shuck faced shuck in the world!

No. I kind of accepted it, in a way. That saving you was worth losing what we might've had.

Too bad we don't have a flashlight." "Thanks for stating the obvious, Mr. Thomas," Minho replied.

It's kind of hard to ask a dead guy what he did wrong.

Let's get this started, people. It won't be long before we all lose our minds.

Anybody else wanna pee their pants and cry for mommy?

Minho was the first one to speak since the food had come. “Maybe we should just give in to those shuckfaces. Do what they want. One day we’ll all sit around, fat and happy.” Thomas knew he didn’t mean a word of it. “Yeah, maybe you can find a nice pretty girl who works here, settle down, get married and have kids. Just in time for the world to end in a sea of lunatics.” Minho kept at it. “WICKED’s going to figure out this blueprint business and we’ll all live happily ever after.

I love the sound of it," Trina whispers, as if speaking too loudly might interrupt the drumming patter of the rain outside. "It makes me want to sleep. Snuggle my head right up in your armpit and snore for three days." "My armpit?" Mark repeats. "Good thing we all showered up in the storm this morning. My pits smell like roses. Go ahead and get comfy.

We were lining up and counting off nice and easy till you came stumbling through like a doped-up bull,' Minho responded.

A roar cut through the melee: a booming growl, a noise that might come out of a she-bear protecting a cub. It was Alec- and suddenly bodies were flying everywhere.

Be unpredictable, be real, be interesting. Tell a good story.

Rose took my nose, I suppose,” he repeated; the bubble of phlegm in his throat made a disgusting crackle. “And it really blows.

I didn’t do anything wrong. All I know is I saw two people struggling to get inside these walls and they couldn’t make it. To ignore that because of some stupid rule seemed selfish, cowardly, and…well, stupid. If you want to throw me in jail for trying to save someone’s life, then go ahead. Next time I promise I’ll point at them and laugh, then go eat some of Frypan’s dinner.

Oh, I'm good. Seriously, after all these years, you'd think I would stop amazing myself. But here I am, still doing it.

He didn't care about the others anymore. The chaos around him seemed to siphon away his humanity, turn him into an animal. All he wanted was to survive, make it to that building, get inside. Live. Gain another day.

Never give up, laugh a lot. Be good to others.

It’s like watching a starving pig eat his own klunk.

It was her. It was Teresa.

Though he’d never know for sure what had happened to them, his mind was super talented at imagining the absolute worst.