Monsters of Men (Chaos Walking, #3)

by Patrick Ness

“What other kind of man is suitable for war?” A monster, I think, remembering what Ben told me once. War makes monsters of men. “Wrong,” says the Mayor. “It’s war that makes us men in the first place. Until there’s war, we are only children.”

That’s the nasty, nasty secret of war– When yer winning– When yer winning, it’s ruddy thrilling–

worst is the one who knows better and does nothing.

Choices may be unbelievably hard but they’re never impossible.”

To say you have no choice is to release yourself from responsibility and that’s not how a person with integrity acts.”

It’s not how we fall. It’s how we get back up again.

“People say they want freedom, but what they really want is freedom from worry.

wars make no sense. You kill people to tell them you want to stop killing them.

Boy colt, Angharrad says, nuzzling my chest. Submit! Juliet’s Joy snaps, her eyes wide. And before I can say anything, Angharrad snaps back SUBMIT! even louder. And Juliet’s Joy lowers her head. “Girl!” I say, with amazement. “That’s my girl.”

His Noise keeps getting quieter, but I can see it there still– See how he feels the skin of my hand against his, see how he wants to take it and press it to his mouth, how he wants to breathe in the smell of me and how beautiful I look to him, how strong after all that illness, and how he wants to just lightly touch my neck, just there, and how he wants to take me in his arms and– “Oh, God,” he says, looking away suddenly. “Viola, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–” But I just put my hand up to the back of his neck– And he says, “Viola–?” And I pull myself towards him– And I kiss him. And it feels like, finally.

If the Mayor can steal learning, then so bloody well can I.

How do you stay an individual when the pressure to conform, to change who you are, is actually life-threatening?”