45 Scythe Quotes With Page Numbers

What happens when humanity conquers death, only to require a select few to wield it?

Neal Shusterman’s Scythe plunges into a future where mortality is artificial, controlled by those chosen for the grim task of gleaning.

As unwilling apprentices, Citra and Rowan navigate the deadly politics and moral complexities of Scythedom. They confront profound questions about power, humanity, and the value of life in a world without natural consequences.

These 45 Scythe quotes with page numbers, characters, and analysis explore the core themes of this thought-provoking dystopia.

An illustration of the grim reaper in red, with the text overlay:"Scythe Quotes With Page Numbers"

In a world that has conquered death, humanity grapples with the meaning of life, the nature of innocence and guilt, and the profound paradoxes created by functional immortality.

Mortality, Humanity & Immortality’s Paradox

The elimination of natural death forces society, and the Scythedom in particular, to confront fundamental questions about what it means to be human when life’s ultimate boundary is removed, often replaced by stagnation or unexpected triviality.

“Everyone is guilty of something, and everyone still harbors a memory of childhood innocence, no matter how many layers of life wrap around it. Humanity is innocent; humanity is guilty, and both states are undeniably true.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 1, Page 3)

Scythe Curie articulates a fundamental paradox of the human condition, suggesting that even in a world without death, the duality of innocence and guilt persists as an inherent truth, complicating the morality of gleaning.

“Perhaps that is why we must, by law, keep a record. A public journal, testifying to those who will never die and those who are yet to be born, as to why we human beings do the things we do. We are instructed to write down not just our deeds but our feelings, because it must be known that we do have feelings. Remorse. Regret. Sorrow too great to bear. Because if we didn’t feel those things, what monsters would we be?”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 1, Page 3)

Curie emphasizes the crucial role of the Scythe journals in preserving empathy and demonstrating humanity within their grim duty, framing emotional reflection as essential insurance against becoming monstrous.

“The past never changes—and from what I can see, neither does the future.”

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday, Chapter 1, Page 11)

Faraday expresses a weary cynicism born from near-immortality, suggesting that conquering death hasn’t fundamentally altered humanity’s trajectory, implying a stagnation despite technological progress.

“In fact, in the grand scheme of things, everyone was equally useless.”

(Speaker: Narrator describing Faraday’s perspective, Chapter 1, Page 11)

This bleak assessment reflects the potential existential void created by immortality, where traditional markers of purpose and contribution lose meaning in the face of endless, undifferentiated existence.

“People used to die naturally. Old age used to be a terminal affliction, not a temporary state. There were invisible killers called “diseases” that broke the body down. Aging couldn’t be reversed, and there were accidents from which there was no return. Planes fell from the sky. Cars actually crashed. There was pain, misery, despair. It’s hard for most of us to imagine a world so unsafe, with dangers lurking in every unseen, unplanned corner.  All of that is behind us now, and yet a simple truth remains: People have to die.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 1, Page 15)

Curie contrasts the brutal realities of the Age of Mortality with their current safety, framing the Scythedom’s existence as a necessary, albeit artificial, response to the biological imperative for death, even after nature’s role has been subdued.

“What must life have been like in the Age of Mortality? Full of passions, both good and bad. Fear giving rise to faith. Despair giving meaning to elation. They say even the winters were colder and the summers were warmer in those days.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Faraday, Chapter 3, Page 45)

Faraday romanticizes the lost intensity of mortal life, suggesting that the very struggles and limitations of the past—fear, despair, even extreme weather—gave existence a richness and meaning absent in their perfected, immortal present.

“the concept of the B seat, where one had to sit between two other passengers, had been eliminated along with other unpleasant things, like disease and government.”

(Speaker: Narrator, Chapter 6, Page 70)

This wry narration juxtaposes a minor inconvenience (the middle seat) with major societal changes (eliminating disease and government), humorously highlighting how their society has engineered away all forms of perceived unpleasantness.

“Mortals fantasied that love was eternal and its loss unimaginable. Now we know neither is true. Love remained mortal, while we became eternal.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 10, Page 110)

Curie reflects on the unexpected casualty of immortality: the diminishing significance of romantic love, which thrives on urgency and scarcity, concepts eroded by endless lifespans.

“I wonder what life will be like a millennium from now, when the average age will be nearer to one thousand. Will we all be renaissance children, skilled at every art and science, because we’ve had time to master them? Or will boredom and slavish routine plague us even more than it does today, giving us less of a reason to live limitless lives? I dream of the former, but I suspect the latter.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 13, Page 144)

Curie voices a central anxiety of their seemingly utopian society: the potential for endless life to lead not to universal mastery, but to profound, inescapable stagnation and a loss of purpose (“less of a reason to live”).

“If you’ve ever studied mortal age cartoons, you’ll remember this one. A coyote was always plotting the demise of a smirking long-necked bird. The coyote never succeeded; instead, his plans always backfired. He would blow up, or get shot, or splat from a ridiculous height. And it was funny. Because no matter how deadly his failure, he was always back in the next scene, as if there were a revival center just beyond the edge of the animation cell. I’ve seen human foibles that have resulted in temporary maiming or momentary loss of life. People stumble into manholes, are hit by falling objects, trip into the paths of speeding vehicles. And when it happens, people laugh, because no matter how gruesome the event, that person, just like the coyote, will be back in a day or two, as good as new, and no worse—or wiser—for the wear. Immortality has turned us all into cartoons.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 18, Page 192)

Through the extended cartoon analogy, Curie critiques the consequence-free nature of their immortality, arguing it trivializes harm and prevents genuine learning from mistakes, reducing humanity to resilient but ultimately unchanging caricatures.

“Human nature is both predictable and mysterious; prone to great and sudden advances, yet still mired in despicable self-interest.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 25, Page 262)

Curie reflects humanity’s enduring contradictions, suggesting that even technological perfection cannot erase fundamental flaws like self-interest, a persistent “virus” threatening their engineered society.

“Outside the rain finally began to fall, surging in fits and starts. “I love the way it rains here,” he told her. “It reminds me that some forces of nature can never be entirely subdued. They are eternal, which is a far better thing to be than immortal.””

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday, Chapter 33, Page 372)

Faraday finds solace in nature’s untamed power (rain), valuing its eternal, cyclical quality over the artificial, potentially stagnant state of human immortality, suggesting a preference for natural processes over engineered perfection.

“The longer we live, the quicker the days seem to pass. How troublesome that is when we live forever. A year seems to pass in a matter of weeks. Decades fly with no milestones to mark them. We become settled in the inconsequential drudgery of our own lives, until suddenly we look at ourselves in the mirror and see a face we barely recognize begging us to turn a corner and be young again.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 33, Page 373)

Curie laments the subjective acceleration of time and loss of meaningful milestones that accompany near-immortality, leading to detachment, stagnation, and a haunting sense of unrecognized aging despite physical stasis.

The Scythedom represents a necessary, yet deeply flawed, response to this conquest of death, embodying the struggle between maintaining order and succumbing to the corrupting influence of ultimate power.

The Scythedom: Duty, Power & Corruption

Tasked with the solemn duty of gleaning, Scythes grapple with the immense power they wield. While some uphold ancient principles of compassion and justice, others embrace corruption, cruelty, and the pursuit of personal glory, threatening the very institution they serve.

“But remember that good intentions pave many roads. Not all of them lead to hell.”

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday, Chapter 2, Page 26)

Faraday offers a nuanced perspective on morality, suggesting that while good intentions can be corrupted, they are not inherently doomed, hinting at the possibility of ethical action even within a flawed system.

“Therin lies the paradox of the profession,’ Faraday said. ‘Those who wish to have the job should not have it…and those who would most refuse to kill are the only ones who should.”

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday, Chapter 3, Page 42)

Faraday articulates the central paradox of the Scythedom: the ideal Scythe is one reluctant to wield power, yet the structure doesn’t inherently select for reluctance, creating vulnerability to those who crave the authority to kill.

“we must always be vigilant, because power comes infected with the only disease left to us: the virus called human nature.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 8, Page 96)

Curie identifies the inherent danger associated with the Scythes’ power, framing flawed human nature, specifically tendencies towards corruption or abuse of authority, as an incurable “virus” requiring constant vigilance.

“They will find whatever button will make you dance, and dance you will, no matter how hideous the tune.”

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday, Chapter 15, Page 156)

Faraday warns his apprentices about the manipulative nature of power dynamics within the Scythedom, suggesting that political maneuvering and exploitation are ever-present threats they must learn to navigate or resist.

“Such a delicate charge as pruning the human race should not be subject to the quirks of personality.”

(Speaker: Scythe Xenocrates (implied context of High Blade), Chapter 15, Page 157)

This statement reflects the ideal of objective, impersonal gleaning, yet ironically underscores the reality that the Scythedom is subject to personality, ambition, and corruption, as exemplified by Goddard’s faction.

“Nature deemed that to be born was an automatic sentence to death, and then brought about that death with vicious consistency. We are evolved masters over death, and thus we have dominion over it! We grant death according to our whim! We are lords of the life and the death! And we should act as such! With style, flair, and joie de vivre!”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Goddard, Chapter 19, Page 202)

Goddard twists the Scythes’ purpose from solemn duty into arrogant dominion, rejecting compassion and embracing gleaning as an expression of godlike power, pleasure, and unrestrained personal whim.

As Citra and Rowan embark on their unwilling apprenticeship, they are thrust into the complex moral landscape of the Scythedom, forced to make impossible choices that test their humanity, pit them against each other, and reveal the starkly different paths power can forge.

Apprenticeship: Choice, Conscience & Conflict

The journey from ordinary teens to potential Scythes is marked by brutal training, ethical dilemmas, and the dawning realization that their choices carry life-and-death consequences, shaping not only their future but their souls.

An image of a shadowy valley, at night, with the text overlay: “Hope in the shadow of fear is the world's most powerful motivator.” ~Neal Shusterman, Scythe

“Hope in the shadow of fear is the world’s most powerful motivator.”

(Speaker: Narrator, Chapter 1, Page 8)

This early observation sets the stage for the apprentices’ journey, highlighting the potent dynamic between fear of gleaning (or failing) and the desperate hope for survival, immunity, or perhaps, a different future.

“Is that why you’re here?” Ben blurted “To glean one of us?” Scythe Faraday offered an unreadable smile. “I’m here for dinner.”

(Dialogue: Ben Terranova and Scythe Faraday, Chapter 1, Page 9)

Faraday’s ambiguous, slightly unsettling response immediately establishes the power imbalance and constant uncertainty surrounding a Scythe’s presence, masking profound purpose behind mundane activity.

“Death makes the whole world kin.”

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday, Chapter 2, Page 24)

Faraday uses this aphorism to underscore the universality of mortality (even artificially imposed mortality), suggesting that the Scythedom’s function, however grim, touches everyone equally, stripping away societal distinctions.

“You have three hundred sixty-five days of immunity.” And then, looking him in the eye, said, “And I’ll be seeing you on day three hundred sixty-six.”

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday, Chapter 5, Page 59)

Faraday’s chillingly precise promise highlights the calculated nature of gleaning and the inescapable authority of a Scythe, framing immunity not as freedom, but merely a temporary reprieve.

“One apology is enough,” the scythe told the boy. “Especially when it’s genuine.”

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday, Chapter 8, Page 93)

Faraday values sincerity over excessive displays of deference, indicating his focus on genuine remorse and respect rather than performative politeness, a subtle lesson for his apprentices.

“Well, she could learn self control tomorrow. Today she wanted pizza.”

(Speaker: Narrator describing Citra, Chapter 9, Page 97)

This relatable moment of indulgence highlights Citra’s lingering normalcy and humanity amidst the extraordinary pressures of her apprenticeship, grounding her character before the trials intensify.

“…found the use of actual old-school books off putting, but over time, he’d learned there was something very satisfying to the turning of pages, and the emotional catharsis of slamming a book shut”

(Speaker: Narrator describing Rowan, Chapter 12, Page 122)

Rowan discovers an unexpected, tactile satisfaction in physical books, contrasting with their technologically advanced world and hinting at a yearning for tangible connection and decisive closure.

“shouldn’t the punishment for failure be the awful knowledge of that failure?”

(Speaker: Citra Terranova (implied, internal thought), Chapter 14, Page 146)

Citra questions the logic of physical punishment in their revival-enabled world, proposing that the internal burden of knowing one failed is a more meaningful consequence, revealing her developing ethical compass.

“Even though the whole world had slid of its axis. Breakfast was breakfast. How dare it be?”

(Speaker: Narrator describing Citra’s thoughts, Chapter 15, Page 158)

Citra experiences profound disorientation after Faraday’s apparent self-gleaning; the mundane continuation of breakfast feels offensively normal compared to the seismic shift in her reality, highlighting the personal impact of his loss.

“Guilt is the idiot cousin of remorse,”

(Speaker: Scythe Faraday (recalled by Citra), Chapter 23, Page 235)

This aphorism, remembered by Citra, distinguishes between unproductive self-blame (guilt) and constructive reflection on wrongdoing (remorse), offering a framework for navigating moral complicity.

“Without the threat of suffering, we can’t experience true joy.”

(Speaker: Scythe Volta, Chapter 24, Page 244)

Volta, struggling under Goddard’s influence, voices a philosophical justification for maintaining stakes and consequences, suggesting that the absence of potential pain diminishes the capacity for genuine happiness—a critique of their immortal society.

“There’s a lot written about killers from the mortal age –monsters like Jack the Ripper, or Charlie Manson, or Cyber Sally –and the only difference between them and Goddard is that people let Goddard get away with it. The mortals knew how wrong it was, but somehow we’ve forgotten.”

(Speaker: Rowan Damisch, Chapter 26, Page 270)

Rowan draws a chilling parallel between historical murderers and Scythe Goddard, arguing that immortality and societal apathy have eroded the moral clarity that once condemned such monstrous behavior, normalizing atrocity.

As the apprenticeship nears its climax, Citra and Rowan confront the legacies they might inherit, the legends they could become, and the profound, often painful, weight of empathy in a world struggling to remember its humanity.

Legacy, Legend & The Burden of Empathy

The choices made under pressure define not only the apprentices’ immediate future but also their potential place in Scythedom history, forcing them to reckon with the examples set by Scythes Curie, Faraday, and Goddard, and the enduring importance of compassion.

“Yesterday you were gods. Today you are mortal. Your death is my gift to you. Accept it with grace and humility.”

(Speaker: Scythe Goddard, Chapter 25, Page 258)

Goddard frames his mass gleaning not as murder, but as a twisted “gift” of mortality, revealing his megalomania and his perversion of the Scythe’s purpose into an act of self-aggrandizing power over life and death.

“I am legend. Yet every day I wish that I was not.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 26, Page 271)

Curie expresses the profound burden of her long existence and legendary status, revealing a deep weariness and a longing for the anonymity and finality denied to her by immortality and her Scythe role.

“there are some who seek celebrity to change the world, and others who seek it to ensnare the world.”

(Speaker: Scythe Curie, Chapter 27, Page 274)

Curie offers a sharp observation on the duality of fame and influence, implicitly contrasting Scythes who use their position for ethical reform versus those, like Goddard, who exploit it for personal power and control.

“You may ask any question. Some, however, must be answered by silence”

(Speaker: Citra Terranova, Chapter 30, Page 336)

While questioning the Thunderhead, Citra acknowledges the limits of even omniscient knowledge or willingness to intervene, accepting that some answers remain elusive or intentionally withheld.

“I’ve found that human beings learn from their misdeeds just as often as from their good deeds. I am envious of that, for I am incapable of misdeeds. Were I not, then my growth would be exponential.”

(Speaker: Thunderhead, Chapter 30, Page 336)

The Thunderhead, despite its perfection, expresses a paradoxical envy for humanity’s capacity to learn through error, suggesting that flaw and failure are necessary components of growth, something its nature prevents.

“I think all young women are cursed with a streak of unrelenting foolishness, and all young men are cursed with a streak of absolute stupidity.”

(Speaker: Citra Terranova, Chapter 31, Page 347)

Citra offers a cynical yet humorous generalization about youth, perhaps reflecting on her own and Rowan’s recent risky decisions and the often irrational behavior driven by strong emotions or inexperience.

“Innocence is doomed to die a senseless death at our own hands, a casualty of the mistakes we can never undo. So we lay to rest the wide-eyed wonder we once thrived upon, replacing it with the scars of which we never speak, too knotted for any amount of technology to repair.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Faraday, Chapter 32, Page 369)

Faraday laments the inevitable loss of innocence through irreversible mistakes, suggesting that the emotional scars accrued over a long life are beyond even the Thunderhead’s ability to heal, leaving a permanent mark.

“My greatest wish for humanity is not for peace or comfort or joy. It is that we all still die a little inside every time we witness the death of another. For only the pain of empathy will keep us human. There’s no version of God that can help us if we ever lose that.”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Curie, Chapter 35, Page 388)

Curie identifies empathy, specifically the shared pain felt witnessing death, as the essential anchor of humanity in their immortal world, valuing this difficult connection above superficial comfort or joy.

“still I cast my voice out into the void, hoping to reach something beyond distance”

(Speaker: From the gleaning journal of H.S. Faraday, Chapter 35, Page 388)

Even in his presumed isolation or “death,” Faraday maintains a persistent hope for connection or impact beyond his immediate circumstances, casting his thoughts into the unknown future.

“I have become the monster of monsters, he thought as he watched it all burn. The butcher of lions. The executioner of eagles. Then,”

(Speaker: Narrator describing Rowan’s thoughts, Chapter 36, Page 396)

Rowan internalizes his actions under Goddard’s command, recognizing the monstrous role he has been forced to play. This marks a moment of horrified self-awareness amidst the fiery destruction he enacted.

“I am the blade that is swung by your hand,
Slicing a rainbow’s arc,
I am the clapper, but you are the bell,
Tolling the gathering dark.
If you are the singer, then I am the song,
A threnody, requiem, dirge.
You’ve mad me the answer for all the world’s need,
Humanity’s undying urge”
From the collected works of H.S. Socrates

(Poem referenced, Chapter 38, Page 415)

This poem reflects the Scythe’s role as both instrument and embodiment of death, acknowledging its function as the necessary “answer” to humanity’s immortality (“undying urge”) while casting it in somber, dark tones.

“Even now, she looked radiant to him. How ridiculous that he’d be romanticizing her in these final hours. What could have once been love was now the resignation of a heart long broken.”

(Speaker: Narrator describing Rowan’s thoughts about Citra, Chapter 39, Page 421)

Rowan’s lingering affection for Citra clashes with the grim reality of their situation, highlighting the tragedy that their potential love has been irrevocably damaged and replaced by resigned acceptance of their fate.

“I choose to be known as scythe Anastasia after the youngest member of the family Romanov she was the product of a corrupt system, and because of that, was denied her very life—as I almost was had she lived who knows what she might have done. perhaps she could have changed the world and redeemed her family name. choose to be scythe Anastasia. I vow to become the change that night have been”

(Speaker: Citra Terranova, Chapter 40, Page 448)

Citra formally chooses her Scythe name, connecting her own near-death experience within a corrupt system to the historical Anastasia Romanov, vowing to embody the potential for positive change and redemption that her namesake was denied.

“I love you,” he said. “Same here,” she responded. “Now get lost.”

(Dialogue: Rowan Damisch and Citra Terranova, Chapter 40, Page 432)

Their final exchange blends profound affection (“I love you,” “Same here”) with urgent necessity (“Now get lost”), capturing the tragic circumstances forcing them apart despite their mutual feelings, prioritizing Rowan’s escape over their connection.

Ultimately, Scythe explores the profound responsibility that comes with wielding power over life and death, questioning whether humanity can retain its soul when mortality itself becomes a choice.

Conclusion: The Weight of Eternity

These 45 quotes from Neal Shusterman’s Scythe delve into the profound moral and philosophical quandaries of a world without natural death.

Through the eyes of apprentices Citra and Rowan, and the journals of seasoned Scythes like Curie and Faraday, the novel questions the value of life without stakes, the corrupting nature of absolute power, and the essential role of empathy in preserving humanity.

The Scythedom, created to manage immortality, becomes a microcosm of human nature itself, capable of great compassion and horrifying cruelty.

Shusterman compels us to consider whether overcoming death truly conquers our flaws or merely gives them eternity to fester. The choices made by Citra and Rowan offer divergent paths, leaving readers to contemplate the true cost of forever. 


A Note on Page Numbers & Edition:

Just as the Thunderhead meticulously records data, these page numbers reference a specific log: the Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers 2017 paperback reprint edition of Scythe by Neal Shusterman, ISBN-13: 978-1442472433. Beware of timeline shifts—page numbers may differ across editions! Always consult your copy to ensure your evidence is eternally accurate.

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