Running around in the grass near an unsecured structure and a bunch of trees is a good way of taking yourself out of the gene pool.

There's only one thing we never wrote down. You know what it was.

I was still wearing my shoes. The staff was paid to wash the sheets after every visit, and by the point we left the field, I’d dressed and undressed so many times in the course of decontamination that I never wanted to remove my clothes again. I’d just wear them until they dissolved, and then spend the rest of my life naked.

The world is out of order. It's been broken since you came.

It felt odd to be laughing during a firefight. Then again, if you can't laugh when you're about to die, when can you?

I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter what we wanted. What matters is what we chose to do with the things we had.

I wanted the truth, and I wanted the news, and I'd be damned before I settled for anything less.