Isaac Marion Quotes
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In my palm I can feel the echo of her pulse, standing in for the absense of mine.
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I feel the flatline of my existence disrupting, forming heartbeat hills and valleys
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Came to . . . see you.” “But I had to go home, remember? You were supposed to say good-bye.” “Don't know why you . . . say good-bye. I say . . . hello.” Her lip quivers between reactions, but she ends up with a reluctant smile. “God you're a cheeseball. But seriously, R—
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It's hard to take your life so seriously when you can see it all at once.
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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.
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Of course, if I eat all of him, if I spare his brain, he'll rise up and follow me back to the airport, and that might make feel better. I'll introduce him to everyone, and maybe we'll stand around and groan for a while. It's hard to say what 'friends' are any more, but that might be close.
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No praise, no blame. Just so.
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We will cry and bleed and lust and love, and we will cure death. We will be the cure. Because we want it.
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Music? Music is life! It’s physical emotion - you can touch it! It’s neon ecto-energy sucked out of spirits and switched into sound waves for your ears to swallow. Are you telling me, what, that it’s boring? You don’t have time for it?
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It's rare that I read more than two or three books by any one author, usually only one.
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Last winter, when so many Living joined the Dead and our prey became scarce, I watched some of my friends become full-dead. The transition was undramatic. They just slowed down, then stopped, and after a while I realised they were corpses. It disquieted me at first, but it’s against etiquette to notice when one of us dies. I distracted myself with some groaning.
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Can we really choose anything?' 'Maybe. If we want to bad enough.
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I'm alone, stumbling through the city in the dark, trying not to let the night freeze my blood.
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I want a new past,new memories, a new first handshake with love. I want to start over in every possible way.
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Why is it beautiful that humanity keeps coming back? So does herpes.
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Soft flesh is eaten by hard teeth.
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Maybe this is why I sleep only a few hours a month. I don't want to die again. This has become clearer and clearer to me recently, a desire so sharp and focused I can hardly believe it's mine: I don't want to die. I don't want to disappear. I want to stay.
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I crush her against me. I want to be part of her. Not just inside her but all around her. I want our rib cages to crack open and our hearts to migrate and merge. I want our cells to braid together like living thread.
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If there are rules, we're the ones making them. We can change them whenever we want to.
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I don't want to hear music, I don't want the sunrise to be pink. The world is a liar. Its ugliness is overwhelming; the scraps of beauty make it worse.
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Not so easy, Mr Lennon. Even if you try.
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...thinking all this maximalism would somehow generate happiness?
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I am Dead, but it's not so bad. I've learned to live with it.
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We smile, because this is how we save the world.
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I think the world has mostly ended because the cities we wander through are as rotten as we are. Buildings have collapsed. Rusted cars clog the streets. Most glass is shattered and the wind drifting through the hollow high-rises moans like an animal left to die. I don't know what happened. Disease? War? Social collapse? Or was it just us? The Dead replacing the Living? I guess it's not so important. Once you're arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which road you took.
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We have to remember everything. If we don't, by the time we grow up it'll be gone forever.
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Everything you see, you might be seeing for the last time.
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Breathing is optional, but I need some air.
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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.
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Even in my bravest moment, I am a coward.
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