Newt shook his head, his face a mixture of anger and awe. “What you did was half brave and half bloody stupid. Seems like you’re pretty good at that.
Little booooooy,” the man said, a taunting and creepy call. Definitely him – Thomas couldn’t forget that voice. “Little girrrrrrrrl. Come out come out make a sound make sound. I want your noses.
The ends justify the means. It should be WICKED’s official logo. They should have a giant banner draped across the front entrance.
He forced himself forward trying to seem innocent without acting like someone who was guilty who was trying to act innocent.
I’m so scared of going crazy. I can already feel it happening. Things look weird, sound weird. Out of the blue I’ll start thinking about stuff that doesn’t make any sense. Sometimes the air around me feels... hard. I don’t even know what that means, but it’s scary. I’m definitely starting. The Flare’s taking my brain to hell.
WICKED was never going to stop. They were never, never going to stop.
Thomas had to trust Newt.
Did a bloody Griever come out and ask for a snog?
Minho flexed his right arm. “If these people are really the girls Aris was hanging out with, I’ll show ’em these guns of mine and they’ll go runnin’.
Like a book completely intact but missing one word every dozen, making it a miserable and confusing read.
You have a gift for making a compliment sound like an insult.
This isn’t a slumber party.
He flat out needed Chuck, like a kid with a security blanket.
Did Thomas the boring slinthead actually make a joke?
I don’t know who you people are, but I hope you’re happy. I hope you get a real buggin’ kick out of watching us suffer. And then you can die and go to hell. This is on you.
Everything is relative.” The man didn’t move a muscle as he spoke. “A knife is a godsend to the man tied in ropes, death to the man in chains.
I want to be a Runner.
I’ve met some brave people in my life. And I’ve met some awfully stupid people. You’re one of the rare ones that are both.
Minho clucked his tongue. “Who cares about that? What’s this freakin’ stuff about her being the Betrayer?” “And what’s ‘Group A, Subject A1’ mean?” This was Newt, who handed over the fire extinguisher to Thomas. “Anyway, your turn to break a buggin’ door handle.
If I can tell you anything today, it is that you should never, ever believe your eyes. Or your mind, for that matter.