Neal Shusterman

They will find whatever button will make you dance, and dance you will, no matter how hideous the tune.

Whether consciousness is implanted in us by something divine, or whether it is created by the efforts of our brains, the end result is the same. We are.

I almost told her everything right then. I wanted to tell her about the Wolves, and how I was supposed to hate them, but when you spend your days with evil, some of it is bound to soak into your clothes, like cigar smoke in a closed room.

It's always the lesser of two evils.''I don't see why there have to be any evils at all.'-Connor

You see, Risa, survival is a dance between our needs and our consciences. When the need is great enough, and the music loud enough, we can stomp conscience into the ground.'Risa closes her eyes. She knows the dance...'It's the way of the world,' Divan continues. 'Look at unwinding, society's grand gavotte of denial. There will, no doubt, come a time when people look to one another and say, 'My God, what have we done?' But I don't believe it will happen any time soon. Until then, the dance must have music; the chorus must have its voice. Give it that voice, Risa. Play for me.'But Risa's fingers offer him nothing, and the Orgao Organico holds the obdurate, unyielding silence of the grave.

Their fate rested entirely on me. I could save them by telling the truth. I could destroy them by lying. No one should have that much power.

Wars have a way reinventing people. And making too many things disappear.-Sonia

Happiness is not a state of being. Happiness is a vector, it is movement.

How many kids are in the Graveyard?""A bunch.""Who sends your supplies?""George Washington. Or is it Abraham Lincoln? I forget.""How often do you receive new arrivals?""About as often as you beat your wife.

Please give me a single reason why I shouldn't hurl myself beneath the wheels of that bus.

Do we exist because others perceive our existence, or is, indeed, our own affirmation enough?

I can't help what I have any more than you can help what you don't

Luck, however, is too dumb to remain consistent

You should never apologize for existing, Lev. Not even to all those people out there who wish you didn't.

There are worse things than being robbed..." I could smell the sick old-meat stench on his breath, like he really had eaten my grandmother. "...worse things than dyin' even. You be a good boy, Little Red, and maybe you'll get to live awhile. Maybe you'll get to die in your own natural time.

Sometimes, Lev, I just want to smack you.""You already hit him with a car.

Today he failed to change the world. As for tomorrow, who can tell?

I'd rather be partly great than entirely useless.