The Toll (Arc of a Scythe, #3)

by Neal Shusterman

Unsavorism was no longer a choice—it was now a judgment. And silence was all it took to turn servitude into superiority. The servant became the master, and the world became all about pleasing the Thunderhead.

“I would despair if my backbrain was infinite, but it is not. Although it is vast, I sense that I will eventually find its limit. Therefore, exploring my mind will not end in futility. For that reason, I am excited.”

Either someone with no conscience at all, or someone with a conscience so deep and sturdy that its center could still hold in the face of light extinguished.

“You must blaze that path. I won’t tell you what to look for, because if I do, you’ll miss the things you would intuitively find.”