The Infinite Sea (The 5th Wave, #2)

by Rick Yancey

The temperature of true rage is absolute zero, and mine is deeper than the ocean, wider than the universe.

No hope without faith, no faith without hope, no love without trust, no trust without love. Remove one and the entire human house of cards collapses.

You never know when the truth will come home. You can’t choose the time. The time chooses you.

Can’t go back. Can’t go forward. Can’t hold on. Can’t let go. Can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t. What can you do? What can you do?

Virtues are vices now, and death is the cost of love. Not the death of his body. His body was the lie. True death. The death of his humanity. The death of his soul.

It will end where it began, where it had been from the beginning, on the battlefield of the last beating human heart.

That’s the price. Get ready, because when you crush the humanity out of humans, you’re left with humans with no humanity. In other words, you get what you pay for, motherfucker.

This isn’t my fault. It isn’t my responsibility. My job is to keep my ass and your ass alive for as long as possible, and if that means somebody else who is nothing to me dies, then I guess that’s what it means.”

“They made a major mistake,” he blurted out, “the dumb bastards, when they didn’t start by killing you first.” “Benjamin Thomas Parish, that was the sweetest and most bizarre compliment anyone’s ever given me.”

I found you, but in finding you, I lost myself.

“But there’s another instinct, far older, as old as life itself, nearly impossible for the human mind to override: Protect the young at all costs. Preserve the future.”

“I don’t want to save the world,” I tell him. “I’m just hoping I might get the opportunity to kill you.”

The things we leave behind and the things that never leave us. The world ended once. It will end again.