Best 190 quotes of James Dashner on MyQuotes

Ah, my Knight in Shining Armor. What, you don't think I can fend for myself?

All the same, Thomas now had a plan. As bad as it was, he had a plan. They needed more clues about the code. They needed MEMORIES. So he was going to get stung by a Griever. Go through the Changing. On purpose.

All things happen for a purpose.

And then they were kissing. Something exploded within his chest burning away the tension and confusion and fear. Burning away the hurt of seconds earlier. For a moment it felt like nothing mattered anymore. Like nothing would matter ever again.

Anybody else wanna pee their pants and cry for mommy?

A roar cut through the melee: a booming growl, a noise that might come out of a she-bear protecting a cub. It was Alec- and suddenly bodies were flying everywhere.

Be unpredictable, be real, be interesting. Tell a good story.

But first, my friends, I need you to do something for me. We have two spies in the back of the auditorium.

But there was something about the largest object in the solar system vanishing that tended to disrupt normal schedules.

Can’t take a chance that one day, in one spot, somewhere, an exit might appear. We can’t give up. Ever.

Can you do that?” Thomas asked. “Huh?” “Kill someone three times.” “I’d figure out a way.

Come on," Alec said, already stomping down the ramp. "Let's find us a squirrel." He swept the weapon back and forth as he walked, looking for any interlopers. "Or better yet, one of the crazies who might've strayed over here. Too bad these things have to be charged or we could get rid of this virus problem in a jiffy. Sweep these old neighborhoods nice and clean." Mark joined him on the ground below the Berg, wary that someone might be watching from the ruined homes surrounding them or from the burnt woods beyond those. "Your value of human life brings tears to my eyes," he muttered.

Do books about the Holocaust make us think, "Oh well, there was nothing we could've done to prevent that or prevent it from happening again"? Of course not. It makes us angry and determined to stop such atrocities.

Down the road a bit, I would like to write a couple of stand-alone adult novels, especially in the horror genre. I've got lots of things up my sleeve.

Dude, you tried to slice my you-know-what's off!" Thomas laughed, something that he hadn't done in a long time. He welcomed it happily. "Too bad I didn't. Could've saved the world from future little Minhos.

Frozen by fear. Not able to move. Your mind screaming

Good try, ya bugging shank. The Gathering elects Runners, and if you think I'm tough, they'd laugh in your face.

He didn't care about the others anymore. The chaos around him seemed to siphon away his humanity, turn him into an animal. All he wanted was to survive, make it to that building, get inside. Live. Gain another day.

He didn't have a single clue what was going on with these two strangers, but every instinct told him Master George equaled good, Mistress Jane equaled bald- he blinked-uh, bad.

He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and ripped it open, then took out the slip of paper. The soft lights that ringed the mirror lit up the message in a warm glow. It was two short sentences: " KILL ME. IF YOU'VE EVER BEEN MY FRIEND, KILL ME.

He whipped out his sheet, then pulled it over himself and wrapped it tightly around his face like an old woman in a shawl. 'How do I look?' 'Like the ugliest shanky girl I’ve ever seen,' Minho responded. 'You better thank the gods above you were born a dude.' 'Thanks.

Hunger. It's like an animal trapped inside you, Thomas thought.

I didn’t do anything wrong. All I know is I saw two people struggling to get inside these walls and they couldn’t make it. To ignore that because of some stupid rule seemed selfish, cowardly, and…well, stupid. If you want to throw me in jail for trying to save someone’s life, then go ahead. Next time I promise I’ll point at them and laugh, then go eat some of Frypan’s dinner.

I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now.

I don't give a crap if you're a Tangent or a really smart llama. You're my friend and that's all that matters

I don't think anything's more rewarding than hearing that you've helped someone gain a love of reading.

If you ain’t scared… you ain’t human.

If you're going to decipher a hidden code from a complex set of different mazes, I'm pretty sure you need a girl's brain running the show.

I just...feel like I need to save everyone. To redeem myself.

I love the sound of it," Trina whispers, as if speaking too loudly might interrupt the drumming patter of the rain outside. "It makes me want to sleep. Snuggle my head right up in your armpit and snore for three days." "My armpit?" Mark repeats. "Good thing we all showered up in the storm this morning. My pits smell like roses. Go ahead and get comfy.

I'm a Crank. I'm slowly going crazy. I keep wanting to chew off my own fingers and randomly kill people.

I'm gonnna break your faces!

I'm inspired by almost everything I come across in life, and one way or another they find themselves sneaking into my stories.

In my early writing, all of my characters were exactly the same person. They all spoke the same, made the same types of jokes, reacted the same, etc. I think they were all just me in disguise.

In other words, a considerable portion of your extraordinary gift comes from the simple fact that you very much want to do good." -Master George

I ought to come up there and break your shuck nose.

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)

I really love middle-grade. Middle-grade books have a little more of a magical, light-hearted feel. You can be a little bit more quirky, you can have a little more humor. It doesn't get so dark and deep.

I sent a lot of publishing ideas to my publisher, about 30 of them. Each time except 3, i got a "rejection letter". This is basically what a rejection letter is like: Hello Pathetic Moron, We read your book. It sucked. Don't send us another one. If you do, we will run over your grandmother with a bus. Don't Do It. From, Your Publisher

I think Judy Blume, Stephen King, and Dean Koontz are the three authors responsible for my being where I am today. I owe them a lot.

I think we should take a break, fill our little tummies and drink up.

It's kind of hard to ask a dead guy what he did wrong.

It’s like watching a starving pig eat his own klunk.

It was you and me, Tom. We did this to them. To us.

I've always been fascinated by quantum physics and the possibility of alternate realities.

I've always had high ambitions and aspirations.

I've been shucked and gone to heaven.

I was just kidding, shuck-face," Minho said. "Let's all go over there. She could have an army of psycho girl ninjas hiding in that shack of hers." "Psycho girl ninjas?" Newt repeated, his voice showing he was surprised, if not annoyed, by Minho's additude.

I watched as that kid died. In his last few seconds there was pure terror in his eyes. You can't do that. You can't do that to a person. I don't care what anybody tells me, I don't care how many people go crazy and die, I don't care if the whole shuck human race ends. Even if that was the only thing that had to happen to find the cure, I'd still be against it.

Just follow me and run like your life depends on it. Because it does.