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

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

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

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

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

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

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.