Oh, I'm Good. Seriously, After All These

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.

Let's Get This Started, People. It Won't Be Long Before We All Lose Our Minds.

Bluh-huh-huh" Minho Groaned, A Shudder Of Repulsion, Like He'd Just Stepped In A Pile Of Klunk.

Thomas: Is It [my Brain] Fixed? Brenda: It Worked, Judging From The Fact That You're Not Trying To Kill Us Anymore.

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.