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...

I hated the place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all … your … fault!

Man, you are one butt-load of sunshine, let me tell you.

Thomas: Is it [my brain] fixed?Brenda: It worked, judging from the fact that you’re not trying to kill us anymore…

Please Tommy. Please.-Newt, the Death Cure:'(

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.

They called you the Glue””The Glue?””Yeah. Probably because you’re kind of the glue that holds us all together