Thomas Off Of Maze Quotes & Sayings

Memories had come back to Thomas on several occasions. The Changing, the dreams he'd had since, fleeting glimpses here and there, like quick lightning strikes in his mind. And right now, listening to the white-suited man talk, it felt as if he were standing on a cliff and all the answers were just about to float up from the depths for him to see in their entirety. The urge to grasp those answers was almost too strong to keep at bay.
But he was still wary. He knew he'd been a part of it all, had helped design the Maze, had taken over after the original Creators died and kept the program going with new recruits. "I remember enough to be ashamed of myself," he admitted. "But living through this kind of abuse is a lot different than planning it. It's just not right. — James Dashner

She and Thomas had helped construct the Maze; at the same time she'd exerted a lot of effort to build a wall holding back her emotions. — James Dashner

What's up, Tommy?" Newt exclaimed, his face filled with genuine happiness at the pleasant surprise that'd been sprung on them. Thomas couldn't remember exactly how long it'd been since the last time he'd seen Newt. "You look bloody fantastic for three in the morning. — James Dashner

Thomas remembered the image of the Cranks at the windows back at the dorm. Like living nightmares, missing only a death certificate to make them official zombies. — James Dashner

She couldn't stop watching his eyes. They were bright black, surrounded by an incredible network of lines, like a laboratory maze for studying intelligence in tears. They seemed to know what she wanted, even if she didn't. — Thomas Pynchon

Taste good?" Brenda asked as she dug into her own food.
"Please. I'd push my own mom down the stairs to eat this stuff," Thomas said.
"I'd kill your mother for something fresh out of a garden. A nice salad."
"Guess my mom doesn't have much of a chance if she's ever standing between us and a grocery store."
"Guess not. — James Dashner

False hope," she said. "Guess that's better then no hope at all. — James Dashner

You're welcome. I was just trying to help.' Thomas felt like kicking him in the face. — James Dashner

He might die."
"Or worse. He might live."
He hears one last thing, finally something that doesn't make him shiver in disgust or fright.
"Or he and the others might save us. Save us all. — James Dashner

Wonder why we can do this,' he called out with his mind. The mental effort of speaking to her was already straining - he felt a headache forming like a bulge in his brain.
'Maybe we were lovers,' Teresa said.
Thomas tripped and crashed to the ground. Smiling sheepishly at Minho, who'd turned to look without slowing, Thomas got back up and caught up to him.
'What?' he finally asked. He sensed a laugh from her, a watery image full of color. — James Dashner

Five feet. Four feet. Three. Two. Thomas knew he had no choice. He moved. Forward. He squeezed past the connecting rods at the last second and stepped into the Maze. The walls slammed shut behind him, the echo of its boom bouncing off the ivy-covered stone like mad laughter. — James Dashner

Thomas: Is it [my brain] fixed?
Brenda: It worked, judging from the fact that you're not trying to kill us anymore ... — James Dashner

I just ... feel like I need to save everyone. To redeem myself. — James Dashner

Thomas swallowed, wondering how he could ever go out there. His desire to become a Runner had taken a major blow. But he had to do it. Somehow he KNEW he had to do it. It was such an odd thing to feel, especially after what he'd just seen ... Thomas knew he was a smart kid- he somehow felt it in his bones. But nothing about this place made any sense. Except for one thing. He was supposed to be a Runner. Why did he feel that so strongly? And even now, after seeing what lived in the maze? — James Dashner

They called you the Glue"
"The Glue?"
"Yeah. Probably because you're kind of the glue that holds us all together — James Dashner

I remember remembering," she muttered, sitting down with a heavy sigh; she pulled her legs up to wrap her arms around her knees. "Feelings. Emotions. Like I have all these shelves in my head, labeled for memories and faces, but they're empty. As if everything before this is just on the other side of a white curtain. Including you. — James Dashner

Teresa stood up, surprising Thomas with her confidence.
"Guess he forgot to tell the little part about me kicking him in the groin and climbing out the window."
Thomas almost laughed as Newt turned to an older boy standing nearby, whose face had turned bright red.
"Congrats, Jeff," Newt said. "You're officially the first guy here to get your butt beat by a girl. — James Dashner

Looks like a maze," Thomas whispered, — James Dashner

The betrayal meant he couldn't trust her anymore, and his heart told him he couldn't forgive her. — James Dashner

Shouldn't someone give a pep talk," Minho asked, pulling Thomas's attention away from Alby.
"Go ahead," Newt replied.
Minho nodded and faced the crowd. "Be careful," he said dryly, "Don't die."
Thomas would have laughed if he could, but he was too scared for it to come out.
"Great. We're all bloody inspired," Newt answered then pointed over his shoulder toward the Maze, "You all know the plan. After two years of being treated like mice, tonight we're making a stand. Tonight we're taking the fight back to the Creators, no matter what we have to go through to get there. Tonight the Grievers better be scared. — James Dashner

Thomas knew what he thought. Those images would never leave - the Gladers would be haunted by the horrible things that had happened in the Maze for the rest of their lives. He figured that most if not all of them would have major psychological problems. Maybe even go completely nutso. — James Dashner

Where are we going?" Thomas asked, still feeling the weight of seeing those walls close, thinking about the maze, the confusion, the fear. He hold himself to stop or he'd drive himself crazy. Trying to grasp a sense of normalcy, he made a weak attempt at a joke. "If you're looking for a goodnight kiss, forget it. — James Dashner

Newt reached out and grabbed Alby by the shoulders. "Alby, lay off a bit. You're hurtin' more than helpin', ya know?"
Alby let go of Thomas's shirt and stepped back, his chest heaving with breaths. "Ain't got time to be nice, Greenbean. Old life's over, new life's begun. Learn the rules quick, listen, don't talk. You get me?"
Thomas looked over at Newt, hoping for help. Everything inside him churned and hurt; the tears that had yet to come burned his eyes.
Newt nodded. "Greenie, you get him, right?" He nodded again.
Thomas fumed, wanted to punch somebody. But he simply said, "Yeah. — James Dashner

It's your incalculable ability to trust others that has always touched me. And I'm sorry to have taken advantage of it so many times"
- Dr. Paige — James Dashner

Newt shook his head, his face a mixture of anger and awe. What you did was half brave and half bloody stupid. Seems like you're pretty good at that. — James Dashner

A small hole in his shirt revealed a gooey red blob right in the meaty part above his armpit, blood pouring from the wound. It hurt. It hurt bad. If he'd thought his headache downstairs had been tough, this was like three or four of those, all smashed into a coil of pain right there in his shoulder. And spreading through the rest of his body.
Newt was at his side, looking down with worried eyes.
"He shot me." It just came out, a new number one on the list of the dumbest things he'd ever said. The pain, like living metal staples running through his insides, pricking and scratching with their little sharp points. He felt his mind going dark for the second time that day. — James Dashner

Reason we're here is because almost every lovin' kid in the Glade has come up to me in the last day or two either boohooing about Thomas or beggin' to take his bloody hand in marriage ... — James Dashner

I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, knowing she couldn't hear. I'm so sorry."
Her mouth moved, working to speak, and he leaned in to make out what she was trying to say.
"Me ... too," she whispered. "I only ever ... cared for ... — James Dashner

They're making me call myself Charles."

Thomas shook his head. "Well, that's lame. We're going to call you Chuck. — James Dashner

Thomas rolled over, glad it was dark so no one could see the look that had settled across his face.
It wasn't a smile, exactly. Not quite a happy expression. But almost.
And for now, almost was good enough. — James Dashner

You're Subject A-two," Newt answered. Then he lowered his eyes
"And?" Thomas pushed.
Newt hesitated, then answered without looking at him. "It doesn't call you anything. It just says ... 'To be killed by Group B. — James Dashner

I can still kick your pony-lovin' butt with twice this much pain."
Thomas shrugged, "I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now. — James Dashner

Thomas rolled his eyes. "I never said jack about me being braver than anybody. I'm just sick of hearing people's voices. Yours included."
Minho snickered. "Slinthead, when you try to be mean, it's just freaking hilarious. — James Dashner

He finally pulled it all back into his heart, sucking in the painful tide of his misery. In the Glade, Chuck had become a symbol for him - a beacon that somehow they could make everything right again in the world. Sleep in beds. Get kissed goodnight. Have bacon and eggs for breakfast, go to a real school. Be happy.
But now Chuck was gone. And his limp body, to which Thomas still clung, seemed a cold talisman - that not only would those dreams of a hopeful future never come to pass, but that life had never been that way in the first place. That even in escape, dreary days lay ahead. A life of sorrow.
His returning memories were sketchy at best. But not much good floated in the muck.
Thomas reeled in the pain, locked it somewhere deep inside him. He did it for Teresa. For Newt and Minho. Whatever darkness awaited them, they'd be together, and that was all that mattered right then. — James Dashner