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“We never know what choices will lead to defining moments in our lives. A glance to the left instead of right could define who we meet and who passes us by. Our life path can be determined by a single phone call we make, or neglect to make.”
― Neal Shusterman, The Toll

“I long for the luxury of being impractical.”
― Neal Shusterman, The Toll

“Scythe Anastasia was equally dumbfounded.
"You?" she said.
"No," Morrison blurted, "not me! I mean, yes, it's me, but I'm not the Toll, I mean." Any hope of strong, silent intimidation was gone. Now he was little more than a stammering imbecile, which is how he always felt around Scythe Anastasia.
"What are you even doing here?" she asked.
He started to explain, but realized it was way too long a story for the moment. And besides, he was sure her story was a better one.
The other scythe in her entourage—Amazonian by the look of his robe—chimed in, several beats behind the curve. "You mean to say you two know each other?"
But before either of them could answer, Mendoza came up behind Morrison, tapping him on the shoulder.
"As usual, you're in the way, Morrison," he grumbled, having completely missed the conversation.
Morrison stepped aside and allowed the curate to exit. And the moment Mendoza saw Anastasia, he became just as befuddled as Morrison. Although his eyes darted wildly, he managed to hold his silence. Now they stood on either side of the entrance to the cave in their usual formation. Then the Toll emerged from the cave between them.
He paused short, just as Morrison and Mendoza had, gaping in a way that a holy man probably never should.
"Okay," said Scythe Anastasia. "Now I know I've lost my mind.”
― Neal Shusterman, The Toll

“Goddard clapped his hands together, truly tickled. "I have so missed these conversations with you!"
"You mean the ones where you gloat, and I'm tied up?"
"You see? The way you get to the heart of the matter is always so refreshing. So entertaining. I'd keep you as a house pet, if I didn't fear you'd somehow escape and burn me to a crisp in my sleep."
"I would, and I would," Rowan told him.
"I have no doubt.”
― Neal Shusterman, The Toll

“Where are you, my dear Marie?”
― Neal Shusterman, The Toll

“... but the more she read, the more she came to understand the fears and the dreams of mortals. The trouble they all had living in the moment, in spite of the fact that the moment was all they had.”
― Neal Shusterman

“The Thunderhead had no arms to embrace. Even so, it could feel the beat of Greyson's heart and the precise temperature of his body as if it were right beside him. To lose that would be a cause of immeasurable sorrow. And so night after night, the Thunderhead silently monitored Greyson in every way it could. Because monitoring was the closest it could come to embracing.”
― Neal Shusterman, The Toll