Home > Work > Pines (Wayward Pines, #1)
101 " For every perfect little town, there's something ugly underneath. No dream without the nightmare. "
― Blake Crouch , Pines (Wayward Pines, #1)
102 " There were moments when you saw the people you loved for who they really were, separate from the baggage of projection and shared histories. When you saw them with fresh eyes, as a stranger might, and caught the feeling of the first time you loved them. Before the tears and the armor chinks. When there was still the possibility of perfection. "
103 " Hmm. Something was off. It was flat, and aside from the faintest suggestion of bitterness in the finish, almost completely devoid of taste. He set the pint glass on the bar as Beverly returned. “I’m getting a free meal, so I’m hesitant to complain,” he said, “but something’s wrong with this beer.” “Really?” She gestured to the glass. “You mind?” “Go ahead.” She lifted the glass and took a sip, licked the foam off her upper lip as she set it back down. “Tastes fine to me. "
104 " How did you wind up in Wayward Pines?” “I was a rep for IBM. Came here on a sales call trying to outfit the local school’s computer lab with our Tandy 1000s. "
105 " Pope shook his head and lifted something off the desk—a snow globe with a gold base. The miniature buildings under the glass dome became caught in a whirlwind of snow as he passed the globe back and forth between his hands. "
106 " Agent Evans is dead. Do you understand me?” “I’ll give him the message!” Marcy said brightly and hung up the phone. "
107 " You are one ugly motherfucker. "
108 " Little patch of perfect green grass. The front porch under the shadow of an old pine tree. On the mailbox, a last name he didn’t recognize. He put his hands on the picket fence. It was dusk. Lights just beginning to wink on in the houses all around him. The occasional snippet of conversation sliding through a raised window. The valley silent and cooling and the highest elevations of the surrounding mountains catching the last bit of daylight. "
109 " He opened the fridge. Strange. There were glass bottles of milk. Fresh veggies. A carton of eggs. Meat wrapped in butcher paper. But nothing prepackaged. "
110 " My God. Someone beat the shit out of me. "
111 " In almost every backyard, he saw a vibrant garden, bursting not only with flowers but vegetables and fruit. "
112 " He looks at you with pure love and it won’t last, so you revel in it while it’s here. "
113 " A splinter of singing. "
114 " You think man can destroy the planet? What intoxicating vanity. Earth has survived everything in its time. It will certainly survive us. To the earth...a million years is nothing. This planet lives and breathes on a much vaster scale. We can’t imagine its slow and powerful rhythms, and we haven’t got the humility to try. We’ve been residents here for the blink of an eye. If we’re gone tomorrow, the earth will not miss us.Michael Crichton "
115 " Many did [believed in God]. Adopted moral codes. Created religions. Murdered in the names of gods they’d never seen or heard. "
116 " His experience, there was darkness everywhere human beings gathered. The way of the world. Perfection was a surface thing. The epidermis. Cut a few layers deep, you begin to see some darker shades. Cut to the bone—pitch black. "
117 " If there’s no species left to even perpetuate such an ideal [freedom and decision], what’s the point? "
118 " He doesn’t see your failings yet. He looks at you with pure love and it won’t last, so you revel in it while it’s here. "
119 " The scream could only be compared to human suffering or terror. Like a hyena or a banshee. Coyotes at their maddest. The mythologized Rebel Yell. High and thin. Fragile. Terrible. And on some level, humming under the surface like buried electrical cables, was a dim awareness that this wasn’t the first time he’d heard it. Again, the scream. Closer. An alarm going off between his eyes, in the pit of his stomach: Leave this place now. Don’t think about it. Just. Go. "
120 " All he knows of Aashif is his voice and those brown, evil eyes in which he senses not a desire to learn information but to inflict pain. The guise of interrogation is merely foreplay. Something to get Aashif hard and wet. "