"He is a good man," John Preston confirmed. And that was why he would not have survived too much longer as a Cleric, even if Preston hadn't caught him out. Good men didn't survive in Libria - only callous, cold and uncompromising people did. People only interested in their own wellbeing, people who only conformed for their own personal gain. Natural selection didn't filter out the best among them - in fact it did quite the opposite, and only the worst - the liars, the murderers, the selfish - survived.
"You have resigned yourself to living here." Not an accusation, or a taunt, or a malicious comment. It was just a statement. The truth, as how John Preston saw it. It looked and felt completely different from Libria but the walls that imprisoned them were the same. Being trapped in a colourful gilded cage with a longer leash wasn't substantively different from grey walls and Prozium.
"I don't know what home is supposed to be, but I feel this city does not qualify."