Quotes from Neal Shusterman

The Chop Shop is soundproof. Somehow he knew it would be.

Maybe you're the last thorn in my side I'll ever have to deal with." "Naah – there's always another thorn.

He should have just gone on with his unremarkable life — because then, maybe, just maybe, he might have had the chance to do something remarkable with it in time.

very few of the jobs are necessary, since they could all be accomplished by machines—but the illusion of purpose is critical to a well-adjusted population. —The Thunderhead

A scythe's journal is traditionally made of lambskin parchment and kid leather." "I assume you mean 'kid' as in 'goat,'" Rowan said, "and not 'kid' as in 'kid.

This won't do," said Scythe Curie, and took Citra up into her arms, carrying her.

Primordial ooze

For you nothing has changed." "Everything has changed, sir." "Perhaps everything will change again.

You must find us binary people strange and confusing." "I did when I was younger. I never met someone born to a single gender until I was well into my teens. But I've come to accept, and even appreciate, your quirky rigidity.

The end doesn't always justify the means, dear, she said. But sometimes it does. Wisdom is knowing the difference.

The irony, however, is that with no body, the world itself becomes my body. One might think this would make me feel grand, but it doesn't. If my body is the Earth, then I am nothing more than a spec of dust in the vastness of space. I wonder what it would be like, then, if my consciousness were to someday span the distance between stars.

Comfort food, thought Citra, because somehow it made her feel safe from the inside out. "My grandmother said it could actually heal a cold." "What's a cold?" asked Citra. "A deadly illness from the mortal age, I suppose.

Sometimes justice needs obstructing when it ain't just.

flames were not meant to burn forever.

And then there's Texas. This is the region in which I dabble in benevolent anarchy. There are few laws, few consequences. I do not govern here as much as I stay out of people's way, and watch what happens.

Munira Atrushi, like most people in the world, had a job that was perfect in that it was perfectly ordinary. And like most every- one in the world, she didn't hate her job, nor did she love it. Her feelings lingered somewhere near the center.

I can have more than fifteen billion simultaneous conversations, and be fully engaged in every single one.

The main floor was a huge open room with a polished stone floor, wooden furniture, a large fireplace, and windows.

Ele falou de muitas jornadas pelo mundo em busca do Grande Diapasão. — O fato de não o termos encontrado não significa que a busca foi em vão, pois ela é tão valiosa em si mesma quanto o achado.

Simply put, unsavories have a need to despise the system. To facilitate that, I had to create a system worthy of loathing. In reality, there is no actual need for people to take a number, or to wait for long periods of time. There isn't even a need for an intake agent. It's all designed to make unsavories feel as if the system is wasting their time. The illusion of inefficiency serves the specific purpose of creating annoyance around which unsavories can bond. - The Thunderhead

Greyson Tolliver locked himself in his apartment, opened the windows to let in the cold, then crawled into his bed beneath heavy covers. It was what he had done when he was younger and the world got the better of him. He could disappear beneath the billowing comforter that protected him from the coldness of the world.

But . . . but I'm only ninety-six

Agreed, he says. But once your purpose was served, shouldn't your life be your own? Miracles are the property of God, she answers. No, he says, miracles are gifts from God. To call them his property insults the spirit in which they are given.

All this time, Lev never realized what he needed. He did not need to be adored or pitied. He needed to be forgiven. Not by God, who is all-forgiving. Not by people like Marcus and Pastor Dan, who would always stand by his side. He needed to be forgiven by an unforgiving world. By someone who once despised him. Someone like Miracolina.