Maze Runner Chuck Quotes

You’re disgusting when you eat,” Chuck said, sitting on the bench next to him. “It’s like watching a starving pig eat his own klunk.

Thomas hated the people who'd taken this poor, innocent kid form his family. He hated them with a passion he didn't know a human could feel. He wanted them dead, tortured, even. He wanted Chuck to be happy. But happiness had been ripped form their lives. Love had been ripped from their lives.

They're making me call myself Charles." Thomas shook his head. "Well, that's lame. We're going to call you Chuck.

I promised I'd save him, take him home! I promised him!" . . . Thomas hugged Chuck to his chest, squeezed him as tightly as possible, as if that could somehow bring him back, or show thanks for saving his life, for being his friend when no one else would. Thomas cried, wept like he'd never wept before. His great, racking sobs echoed through the chamber like the sounds of tortured pain. (pg 358 hardback)

The kid was his brother in every way but blood - without him, Thomas would've broken long ago.

Thomas stood up to pace around the little room, fuming with an intense desire to keep his promise. "I swear, Chuck," he whispered to no one. "I swear I"ll get you back home.

He shouted her name again, and in his mind he saw Chuck, falling to the ground, covered in blood, and Newt’s bulging eyes. Three of the closest friends he’d ever had. And WICKED had taken them all away from him.

Thomas thought Chuck’s personality had gone from mildly irritating to intolerable.

His friend Chuck, stabbed in the chest, bleeding, dying as Thomas held him.

He flat out needed Chuck, like a kid with a security blanket.

Shank’s got more guts than I’ve fried up from every pig and cow in the last year.” He paused, as if expecting a laugh, but none came. “How stupid is this—he saves Alby’s life, kills a couple of Grievers, and we’re sitting here yappin’ about what to do with him. As Chuck would say, this is a pile of klunk.

Things are really weird around here, and most of us don't know everything. Half of everything.

Klunk’s another word for poo. Poo makes a klunk sound when it falls in our pee pots.” Thomas looked at Chuck, unable to believe he was having this conversation. “That’s nice” was all he could manage.

He finally pulled it all back into his heart, sucking in the painful tide of his misery. In the Glade, Chuck had become a symbol for him—a beacon that somehow they could make everything right again in the world. Sleep in beds. Get kissed goodnight. Have bacon and eggs for breakfast, go to a real school. Be happy. But now Chuck was gone. And his limp body, to which Thomas still clung, seemed a cold talisman—that not only would those dreams of a hopeful future never come to pass, but that life had never been that way in the first place. That even in escape, dreary days lay ahead. A life of sorrow. His returning memories were sketchy at best. But not much good floated in the muck. Thomas reeled in the pain, locked it somewhere deep inside him. He did it for Teresa. For Newt and Minho. Whatever darkness awaited them, they’d be together, and that was all that mattered right then.

I swear, Chuck,” he whispered to no one. “I swear I’ll get you back home.

yelled, but Chuck was already off the box and running

Chuck seemed deep in thought. “Well, they found a dead Griever, right?” “Yeah,” Newt replied. “Thanks for that bit of news.” Chuck absently tapped his fork against the table for a few seconds. “Well, then who killed the stupid thing?” Excellent question, Thomas thought. He waited for Newt to answer, but nothing came. He obviously didn’t have a clue.

Don’t give up, Chuck. We’re gonna solve this thing, get out of here. I’m a Runner now—I promise on my life I’ll get you back to that room of yours. Make your mom quit crying.” And Thomas meant it. He felt it burn in his heart.

La daga golpeó el pecho de Chuck con un ruido húmedo y desagradable,

-¿Desterrado? ¿Y eso qué significa? -no pudo evitar la pregunta, aunque sabía que no podía ser nada bueno si Chuck pensaba que era peor que estar muerto. En ese instante, tuvo la sensación más perturbadora desde su llegada al Área. Chuck no contestó, simplemente sonrió. A pesar de todo, a pesar de lo horrible que era esa situación, se rió. Luego salió corriendo, tal vez para contarle a otro las emocionantes noticias.

Since he’d killed Newt, he hadn’t thought once about what he had set out to do. Free of WICKED, finally, and here he was voluntarily going back. He didn’t care anymore. Whatever happened, happened. He knew that for the rest of his life he’d be haunted by what he’d seen. Chuck gasping for air while he bled to death, and now Newt screaming at him with raw, terrifying madness. And that last moment of sanity, eyes begging for mercy. Thomas closed his own, and the images were still there. It took a long time for him to fall asleep.

-Escúchame, Chuck -contestó, haciendo una pausa para calmarse y que no se le quebrara la voz-.No me cabe la menor duda de que tienes padres. Lo sé. Suena horrible, pero estoy seguro de que tu mamá está sentada ahora en tu cuarto, sosteniendo tu almohada, observando por la ventana ese mundo que te arrebató de ella. Y te apuesto a que está llorando. Con fuerza. Los ojos hinchados, los mocos en la nariz: un llanto como debe ser. No dijo nada, pero Thomas escuchó unos ligerísimos gemidos. -No debes rendirte, Chuck. Vamos a solucionar todo y a salir de aquí. Ya soy un Corredor, y prometo por mi vida que te voy a llevar de vuelta a tu habitación. Y tu mamá dejará de llorar. Lo decía en serio. Esa promesa le quemaba el corazón. -Espero que tengas razón -dijo Chuck con voz temblorosa. Hizo el gesto del pulgar hacia arriba en la ventana y se alejó. Thomas se levantó y caminó por el pequeño recinto, ardiendo en deseos de poder cumplir su palabra. -Créeme, Chuck -susurró al aire-.Te juro que te llevaré de vuelta a tu casa.

He felt another tremor of emotion as he saw the faces of Chuck and Newt and Teresa in his mind’s eye. A

Things are really weird around here, and most of us don't know everything. Half of everything.

—¿Qué hay ahí fuera? —preguntó, rompiendo por fin el silencio—. ¿Es esto parte de algún castillo enorme o algo por el estilo? Chuck vaciló. Parecía incómodo. —Ummm, nunca he salido del Claro. Thomas hizo una pausa. —Estás ocultando algo —contestó por fin; se acabó el bocadillo y dio un buen trago de agua. La frustración por no recibir respuestas de nadie le estaba empezando a sacar de quicio. Pero aún era peor pensar que, aunque obtuviera las respuestas, no sabría si le estaban diciendo la verdad—. ¿Por qué sois tan reservados? —Así son las cosas. Todo es un poco raro por aquí y la mayoría no sabemos mucho. Ni la mitad de mucho. A Thomas le fastidió que a Chuck no pareciera importarle lo que acababa de decir. ¿Qué le pasaba a esa gente? [...]

Conmocionado, Thomas comprobó que sus ojos se habían llenado de lágrimas. La vida había sido tan delirante desde su llegada al Área que nunca se le había ocurrido pensar en los Habitantes como si fueran chicos reales, con familias de verdad que los extrañaran. Era muy raro, pero ni siquiera había pensado en sí mismo de esa manera. Sólo reflexionaba acerca del significado de todo, sobre quiénes los había mandado allí o cómo saldrían alguna vez de ese lugar. Por primera vez, sintió algo por Chuck que lo enojó de tal modo que tenía deseos de matar a alguien. El chico debería estar en la escuela, en su hogar, jugando con los amigos. Tenía derecho a tener una casa y una familia que lo amara, que se preocupara por él. Una mamá que se encargara de que se diera una ducha todos los días y un papá que lo ayudara con la tarea. Detestó a las personas que habían arrancado a ese pobre chico inocente de su familia. Los odió con una pasión que no sabía que un ser humano pudiera sentir. Quería que los mataran, incluso que los torturaran. Deseaba que Chuck fuera feliz. Pero la felicidad había sido extirpada de sus vidas. Y también el amor.

-Estoy medio confundido, viejo. Es raro sentirse triste y extrañar la casa de uno, si no tienes idea de adónde deseas volver, ¿cazas lo que digo? Lo único que sé es que no quiero estar aquí. Quiero regresar con mi familia donde sea que quede eso, al lugar de donde me sacaron. Quiero recordar.

But Thomas didn’t have time to finish his thought. Gally reached behind himself, pulled something long and shiny from his back pocket. The lights of the chamber flashed off the silvery surface—a wicked-looking dagger, gripped tightly in his fingers. With unexpected speed, he reared back and threw the knife at Thomas. As he did so, Thomas heard a shout to his right, sensed movement. Toward him. The blade windmilled, its every turn visible to Thomas, as if the world had turned to slow motion. As if it did so for the sole purpose of allowing him to feel the terror of seeing such a thing. On the knife came, flipping over and over, straight at him. A strangled cry was forming in his throat; he urged himself to move but he couldn’t. Then, inexplicably, Chuck was there, diving in front of him. Thomas felt as if his feet had been frozen in blocks of ice; he could only stare at the scene of horror unfolding before him, completely helpless.

Thomas paused. “You’re hiding something,” he finally replied, finishing off his last bite and taking a long swig of water. The frustration at getting no answers from anyone was starting to grind his nerves. It only made it worse to think that even if he did get answers, he wouldn’t know if he’d be getting the truth. “Why are you guys so secretive?” “That’s just the way it is. Things are really weird around here, and most of us don’t know everything. Half of everything.” It bothered Thomas that Chuck didn’t seem to care about what he’d just said. That he seemed indifferent to having his life taken away from him. What was wrong with these people? Thomas got to his feet and started walking toward the eastern opening. “Well, no one said I couldn’t look around.” He needed to learn something or he was going to lose his mind. “Whoa, wait!” Chuck cried, running to catch up. “Be careful, those puppies are about to close.” He already sounded out of breath. “Close?” Thomas repeated. “What are you talking about?” “The Doors, you shank.” “Doors? I don’t see any doors.

You cried?” he heard Chuck say through the window. “Then?” “Yeah. When the last one finally fell over the Cliff, I broke down and sobbed till my throat and chest hurt.” Thomas remembered all too well. “Everything crushed in on me at once. Sure made me feel better—don’t feel bad about crying. Ever.” “Kinda does make ya feel better, huh? Weird how that works.

Thomas waited for Chuck to laugh or smile, thinking it had to be a joke—who ever heard of someone being cut in half? But it never came. “You’re serious?” Chuck just stared back at him. “I don’t lie, Gree—uh, Thomas. Come on, let’s go over and see who’s coming up. I can’t believe you only have to be the Greenbean for one day. Klunkhead.” As they walked over, Thomas asked the one question he hadn’t posed yet. “How do you know it’s not just supplies or whatever?” “The alarm doesn’t go off when that happens,” Chuck answered, simply. “The supplies come up at the same time every week. Hey, look.” Chuck stopped and pointed to someone in the crowd. It was Gally, staring dead at them. “Shuck it,” Chuck said. “He does not like