[...]How can a great civilization have destroyed itself so completely?"
"Perhaps,"said Apollo, "by being materially great and materially wise and nothing else.

You talk as if a god had made the Machine," cried the other. "I believe that you pray to it when you are unhappy. Men made it, do not forget that. Great men, but men. The Machine is much, but not everything.

There are ten abilities, but no one has more than one—except me. I’m different that way. I have…more.”
“You mean you have all ten.”
I shrug my shoulders and nod.
“And you say you’re different, huh?”
“I am. I’m the only one—at least the first one,” I add, remembering what Sir Theo suggested about me being a more evolved species. A smile drifts to my mouth but fades when I notice Max staring at me with such disinterest that I become embarrassed.
“I see. So is it just you who likes to think you’re special or all the teens in your world?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Forget it. I guess I’m just trying to figure you out.

The most important thing you can ever know, is that whatever your purpose is, that's not your only choice.

They were like her rocks. Imperfect and surprising and maybe better in the long run than certainties. Chances, she thought, were life

I was in a place I had never visited before and I didn’t want to ever visit again.
I was in hell, or so I thought…