And red is not the color of apples or roses or the dresses that pretty girls wear in the summertime. That is not the color of red at all.

Oh, Will Henry. After all we have been through, how could I send you away now, at our most critical hour? You are indispensable to me.

Do you know how to tell who the enemy is, Cassie?

She hated him and loved him, longed for him and loathed him, and cursed herself for feeling anything at all

We are slaves, all of us...Some are slaves to fear. Others are slaves to reason—or base desire. It is our lot to be slaves...and the question must be to what shall we owe our indenture? Will it be to truth or to falsehood, hope or despair, light or darkness? I choose to serve the light, even though that bondage often lies in darkness.

There's an old saying about truth setting you free. Don't buy it. Sometimes the truth slams the cell door shut and throws a thousand bolts.

We'd stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first. You'd think that would make us feel brave and invincible. It didn't.