Perhaps, with enough time in these walls, one could become resigned to things never getting better, or even changing all that much. Or maybe a person… - Hugh Howey

I also very purposefully employ the caps button, because they can, in this way, hear us scream in space:

And then there was the routine, the mind-numbing routine. It was the castration of thought, the daily grind of an office worker who drooled at the clock, punched out, watched TV until sleep overtook him, slapped an alarm three times, did it again.

There were things that could not be contemplated, he realized. There were potential truths too costly to bear. It wasn’t until after the body was scarred by a brush with danger that it learned fear. Conner thought of all the untouched places on his soul yet to teach him something. All the unblemished parts of him waiting for that razor of truth.