You notice that he does not ask, Where am I?" says the Mayor's voice, moving out there, somewhere. "His first words are, Where is she? And his Noise says the same. Interesting.

To say you have no choice is to relieve yourself of responsibility.

Noise ain't Truth, Noise is what men want to be true, and there's a difference twixt those two things so big that it could ruddy well kill you if you don't watch out.

I don't know how much time passes with us just lying there, just feeling that the other is really there, really true, really alive, feeling the safety of him, his weight against mine, the roughness of his fingers touching my face, his warmth and his smell and the dustiness of his clothes, and we barely speak.

It's always nice when two people who don't got no one else find each other as friends.

Superior numbers versus superior firepower. A recipe for unending slaughter.

And I know I’ve lost. Everything is lost. Everything is over. “As the newly appointed President of this fair planet of ours,” the Mayor says, holding out his hands as if to show me the world for the first time,” let me be the very first to welcome you to its new capital city.” “Todd?” Viola whispers, her eyes closed. I hold her tightly to me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to her. “I’m so sorry.” We’ve run right into a trap. We’ve run right off the end of the world. “Welcome,” says the Mayor,” to the New Prentisstown.