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Writing isn't letters on paper. It's communication. It's memory.

Isaac Marion

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Isaac Marion
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: December 30
Music Journalist
Novelist
Writer
Seattle
Washington
Writing
Letters
Memory
Communication
Paper
Memories

More quotes by Isaac Marion

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It’s sad to see them staring wistfully through the window when the door isn’t locked.
Isaac Marion
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One mistake, one brief lapse of my new found judgement-that's all it took to unravel everything. What a massive responsibility, being a moral creature.
Isaac Marion
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What happened to the world was gradual. I've forgotten what it actually was, but I have faint, fetal memories of what it was like. A smoldering dread that never really caught fire till there wasn't much left to burn. Each sequential step surprised us. Then one day we woke up, and everything was gone.
Isaac Marion
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She is Living and I'm Dead, but I'd like to believe we're both human. Call me an idealist.
Isaac Marion
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Warm Bodies ended up becoming one of the most personal relatable things I've written.
Isaac Marion
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Deep under our feet the Earth holds its molten breath, while the bones of countless generations watch us and wait.
Isaac Marion
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...wanting change is step one, but step two is taking it.
Isaac Marion
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If there are rules, we're the ones making them. We can change them whenever we want to.
Isaac Marion
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Just... ate, M says, frowning at me a little. Two days...ago. I grab my stomach again. Feel empty. Feel... dead. He nods. Marr...iage.
Isaac Marion
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It's not like I'm such a shiny happy person either, you know? I'm a wreck too, I'm just... still alive.
Isaac Marion
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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.
Isaac Marion
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Stop. Breathe those useless breaths. Drop this piece of life you’re holding to your lips. Where are you? How long have you been here? Stop now. You have to stop. Squeeze shut your stinging eyes, and take another bite.
Isaac Marion
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In my mind I am eloquent I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.
Isaac Marion
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In my palm I can feel the echo of her pulse, standing in for the absense of mine.
Isaac Marion
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I used to split my time between writing, music and painting. I would work on a book and then abandon it, start a band, do an album, quit music, then do a gallery show. Eventually I decided to give writing a serious shot.
Isaac Marion
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I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.
Isaac Marion
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It frustrates and fascinates me that we'll never know for sure, that despite the best efforts of historians and scientists and poets, there are some things we'll just never know. What the first song sounded like. How it felt to see the first photograph. Who kissed the first kiss, and if it was any good.
Isaac Marion
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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?
Isaac Marion
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How do I appear unthreatening when her lover's blood is running down my chin?
Isaac Marion
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You might say that death has relaxed me.
Isaac Marion