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...thinking all this maximalism would somehow generate happiness?

Isaac Marion

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Isaac Marion
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: December 30
Music Journalist
Novelist
Writer
Seattle
Washington
Thinking
Generate
Somehow
Happiness
Would

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.
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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?
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It's a strange feeling, being so utterly surrounded by her. Her life scent is on everything. She's on me and under me and next to me. It's as if the entire room is made out of her.
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Are we all just Dark Age doctors, swearing by our leeches? We crave a greater science. We want to be proven wrong.
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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?
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Deep under our feet the Earth holds its molten breath, while the bones of countless generations watch us and wait.
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When the entire world is built on death and horror, when existence is a constant state of panic, it's hard to get worked up about any one thing. Specific fears have become irrelevant. We've replace them with a smothering blanket far worse.
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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.
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I'm not a general or a colonel or a builder of cities. I'm just a corpse who wants not to be.
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I want life and in all its stupid sticky rawness.
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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.
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Warm Bodies ended up becoming one of the most personal relatable things I've written.
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What happened? How did I get here? How could I have known that my choices mattered?
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It was fun, but it's over now. This is how things go.
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Once again the absurdity of my inner thoughts overwhelms me, and I want to crawl out of my skin, escape my ugly, awkward flesh and be a skeleton, naked and anonymous.
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Life only makes any sense if we can see time how God does. Past, present, and future all at once.
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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.
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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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I can’t seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present.
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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.
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