Maze Runner Book Quotes

I hated the place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all … your … fault!

He couldn't leave a friend to die. Even someone as cranky as Alby.

Thomas jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. "You met our new friend?" Miho responded, a smirk flashing across his face. "Real piece of work, this guy. I gotta get me one of those shuck suits. Fancy stuff." "Am I awake?" Thomas asked. "You're awake. Now eat—you look horrible. Almost as bad as Rat Man over there, reading his book.

Thomas had to trust Newt.

Like a book completely intact but missing one word every dozen, making it a miserable and confusing read.

psycho monsters.

You're Subject A-two," Newt answered. Then he lowered his eyes "And?" Thomas pushed. Newt hesitated, then answered without looking at him. "It doesn't call you anything. It just says . . . 'To be killed by Group B.

What he would become. But he had a plan, didn't he? Several plans, depending on the contingencies. But each plan had the same ending--it was just a matter of how he got there. He would last for as long as he needed to write what he needed in that journal. Something about that simple, empty little book, waiting to be filled. It had given him a purpose, a spark, a winding course to ensure the last days of his life had reason and meaning. A mark, left on the world. He would write all the sanity he could muster out of his head before it was taken over by its opposite.

I’ve got a lot of books in my head, so hopefully we can be friends for a long time. With all my heart, mind, body, and soul … thank you!

And the cure for the Flare’s gonna fly out of your butt any second.

Of course we care,” Thomas answered. “But what do you want us to do about it?” “Hey, all I know is that WICKED has one directive – to find a cure. And it’s pretty obvious that’s never gonna happen. If we had their money, their resources, we could use it to really help. To protect the healthy. I thought you’d want that.” Thomas did, of course. Desperately. Gally shrugged when no one responded.

That girl loved to read like no one else, and she was making up for the months they spent literally running for their lives, when books were few and far between. The digital kind were all long gone, as far as Mark could guess—wiped away when the computers and servers all fried. Trina read the old-school paper kind.

Which meant he needed to bring Trina into the picture before another ten minutes ticked off the clock. He hurriedly got dressed and went out to look for her. He found her up by the stream, in one of the quiet places she went to read some of the books they’d salvaged from an old library they’d come across in their travels. That girl loved to read like no one else, and she was making up for the months they spent literally running for their lives, when books were few and far between. The digital kind were all long gone, as far as Mark could

odor

infirmary,

Has anyone else considered "Young Adult," book authors as a bunch of geniuses? Life is basically "The Hunger Games," "The Maze Runner," etc. We are all just like Katniss, Tirs, and/or Thomas (for example) wondering why things in life are the way they are. Finding out that we were placed in some sort of game as a means of a test in order to find our real purpose for why we were given this life in the first place.