“You're my brother."

"Those words don't mean anything where we're concerned. We aren't human. Their rules don't apply to us. Stupid laws about what DNA can be mixed with what. Hypocritical, really, considering. We're already experiments.”

“If you you're in the United States, sometimes you can feel lazy and think we're so big we don't have to really know anything about other people.”

“… we all must admit that everything is fine and there's no need in the world to worry, and in fact we should realize what it would mean to us to UNDERSTAND that we're not REALLY worried about ANYTHING.”

“We're so busy watching out for what's just ahead of us that we don't take time to enjoy where we are.”

“I don't think we're yet evolved to the point where we're clever enough to handle a complex a situation as climate change…The inertia of humans is so huge that you can't really do anything meaningful.”

“Most of us all walk around as if we're sleepwalking. We really don't experience the world fully, because we're half-asleep, doing things we automatically think we have to do.”

“It's all a part of this world where we're all kind of mixing a lot, and… in that way we're all a bit confused about who we are, where we belong, where's home, and … who is important to us…”

“I don't care what you think. You're not my brother," Clary said. "You're a murderer."
"I really don't see how those things cancel each other out," said Sebastian.”

“We see the infinite plain of facts, and we impose a moral interpretation upon it. And the moral interpretation is about 'what to do about what is'. That's associated both with security, because we just don't need that much complexity, and aim. So we're mobile creatures, right? We need to know where we're going, because all we're ever concerned about, roughly speaking, is where we're going. That's what we need to know. Where are we going, what are we doing, and why? And that's not the same questions as, 'What is the world made up of?' And so that's the domain of the moral, as far as I'm concerned, which is 'What are you aiming at?' That's the question of the ultimate ideal, in some sense. Even if you have trivial, little, fragmentary ideals, there's something trying to emerge out of that. It's more coherent, and more integrated, and more applicable, and more practical.”

“We're so different. You're an intellectual. I'm an idiot."
"Don't say that," I yelled. "You're not an idiot, you stupid idiot.”