Isaac Marion Quotes
Top 100 wise famous quotes and sayings by Isaac Marion
Isaac Marion Famous Quotes & Sayings
Discover top inspirational quotes from Isaac Marion on Wise Famous Quotes.
There is no ideal world for you to wait around for. The world is always just what it is now, and it's up to you how you respond to it.
I'd like to sit down with him and pick his brain, just a tiny bite somewhere in the frontal lobe to get a taste of his thoughts -Warm Bodies
He didn't come to make friends. He's got fire in his eyes and a sword in his mouth and he came to cut the world in half.
Here it comes. My inevitable death, ignoring me all those years when I wished for it daily, arriving only after I've decided I want to live forever.
I want a new past,new memories, a new first handshake with love. I want to start over in every possible way.
Are we all just Dark Age doctors, swearing by our leeches? We crave a greater science. We want to be proven wrong.
You know things are moving. You're changing, you fellow Dead are changing, the world is ready for something miraculous. What are we waiting for?
Okay?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, cringes at the smell of my fluids, then nods. "Okay.
I wish I could read what she's written there. Instead, I pretend the letters are stars. The words, constellations.
Even as I think them, the words lose their context, dissolve into grains of absurdity in the vast ocean of day-to-day hunger.
What's wrong with people?" she says, almost too quiet for me to hear. "Were they born with parts missing or did it fall out somewhere along the way?
I wince at her use of the word "human." I've never liked that differentiation. She is living and I'm dead, but we're both human. Call me an idealist.
What I'm saying is, when you have weight like that in your life, you have to start looking for the bigger picture or you are gonna sink.
My friend "M" says the irony of being a zombie is that everything is funny, but you can't smile, because your lips have rotted off.
I grab my stomach again. "Feel empty. Feel . . . dead." He nods. "Marr . . . iage." I glare at him. I shake my head and clutch my stomach harder.
It radiates out from him like a cloud of ghosts, countless hands clutching at the air, reaching out for ... something.
I mean obviously, staying alive is pretty fucking important . . . but there's got to be something beyond that, right?
Is equally young and foolish in the wide lens of history, and the arrogant denial of this is what unraveled the world.
I wish people were willing to dig a little deeper than the surface elements of a premise before tossing one story in with another.
Maybe you're not such a monster, Mr Zombie. I mean, anyone who appreciates a good beer is at least halfway okay in my book.
I wonder how well she sleeps at night, and what kind of dreams she has. I wish I could step into them like she steps into mine.
No need to speak. No need to listen. Everything is already known. That is how things are done. Always has been. Always will be.
It's not about keeping up the population, it's about passing on who we are and what we've learned, so things keep going. So we don't just end.
We eat and sleep and shuffle through the fog, walking a marathon with no finish line, no medals, no cheering.
Peel off these dusty wool blankets of apathy and antipathy and cynical desiccation. I want life in all its stupid sticky rawness.
Music is life! It's physical emotion-you can touch! It's neon ecto-energy sucked out of spirits and switched into soundwaves for your ears to swallow.
And considering I haven't showered in over a week, you really don't smell much worse than I do; maybe we'll cancel each other out.
The shadows of the room pool in the lines of our faces, draining our eyes of hue. There's nothing left worth saying.
Is it stupid to waste time on stuff like that in a world like this? When everything might fall apart any minute?
But no, "R." No sleep of the innocent. Not for you. Did you forget? You have blood on your hands. On your lips. On your teeth. Smile for the cameras.
I sigh inside, so exhausted by these ugly questions, but when did a monster ever deserve its privacy?
It's not like I'm such a shiny happy person either, you know? I'm a wreck too, I'm just ... still alive.
I want a god to curse. I'll take any of them, all of them; I'll scream and blaspheme till lightning shuts me up.
Marie keeps asking for books about zombies and I keep telling her I can't read nonfiction for story time, but . .
Sex, once a law as undisputed as gravity, has been disproved. The equation is erased, the blackboard broken
I can feel it ... the chance to start over, to live right, to love right, to burn up in a fiery cloud and never again be buried in the mud.