Quotes from Neal Shusterman

mas a ilusão de propósito é fundamental para uma população bem ajustada.

It was the last act of terrorism accomplished before the Thunderhead ascended and put an end to such nonsense

Most abusers don't leave a wide debris field that's easy to spot, and therefore easy to avoid. They're not nukes, they're radiation zones. They're not tornados, they're balmy summer skies where the morning sun makes you forget the thunderstorm coming in the afternoon.

I'm decent to everyone, Rowan pointed out. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a decent person.

I would never hurt one person's chances to help another--even if that other person was someone I cared about.

I won't allow it to control me. My current agony will not define me.

It was no surprise to Rowan that it was painted royal blue and studded with glistening stars. Everything in Scythe Goddard's life was a testament to his ego.

But they loved God more than they loved me, and I hate them for it. So I guess that means I'm going to Hell.

Fiction is all too often one rationalisation away from reality. (from the acknowledgements of Unwind)

Breakfast was breakfast. How dare it be?

So Jeri reached out a hand to help Greyson up Ã¢â'¬Â¦ and found that even after Greyson was on his feet, Jeri didn't want to let go.

Welcome to life as a god, Scythe Volta said to him. While behind them the building was burning to the ground.

People are vessels. They hold whatever's poured into them.

I only remember fighting Ozzy O'Dell once. It was back in second grade. He threw these weird windmill-like punches, which was probably an early sign that the swim team was in his future.

Attention! he announced in full theatrical voice. Attention, all! You have been selected for gleaning today. You are commanded to step forward and meet your demise.

She could beat him at everything. Even at losing.

Why, wondered Citra, would there ever be a need for 400,000 scythes?

This time there was no delay between explosion and sound. The ends of her hair singed. Shrapnel shredded the palm leaves around her. She hit the ground, and Faraday dove on top of her to protect her. Another explosion, along with heat that she thought would ignite their flesh Ã¢â'¬Â¦ but then it faded, resolving into twangs of dying metal and the acrid smell of burning insulation. When they looked

We are angels of death, said Scythe Goddard. It is only fitting that we swoop in from the heavens.

In time, all storms settle to a pleasant breeze. —The Thunderhead

His one-eight feels a whole lot bigger when I spend time hanging around in his grey matter.

Be my son or my daughter for a year, and I will give you power over life and death.

A thunderhead threatens. A thunderhead looms. Surely I spark with lightning, but my lightning never strikes. Yes, I possess the ability to wreak devastation on humanity, and on the Earth if I chose to, but why would I choose such a thing? Where would be the justice in that? I am, by definition, pure justice, pure loyalty. This world is a flower I hold in my palm. I would end my own existence rather than crush it.

In nature even the most hideous of creatures are attracted to one another.