And now they were making music from the screams of the dying. Of the dead. The were dancing to it in the low-rent clubs. What it must be like, Miller thought, to be young and soulless.
But no. That wasn't fair. Diogo was a good kid. He was just naive. The universe would take care of that, given a little time.
Chapter 44 (p. 445) - Leviathan Wakes (2011)