The Boy on the Bridge (The Girl With All the Gifts, #2)

by M.R. Carey

His limbs are heavy and he feels tired to death. It seems appropriate that emotions should have recoil in the same way guns do, because after all they’re just as dangerous.

When you’re a mile outside the limits of your competence, there is some comfort to be had in sounding like you know what you’re doing.

Quae nocent saepe docent. Pain is the great teacher.

Sanity is a suspended state, moored in nothing but itself. You test the ground an inch in front of you, move forward as though it’s solid. But the whole world is in freefall and you’re in freefall with it.

all journeys are the same journey, whether you know it or not, whether you’re moving or not. And the things that look like endings are all just stations on the way.