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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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Isaac Marion
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: December 30
Music Journalist
Novelist
Writer
Seattle
Washington
Ended
Bodies
Warm
Becoming
Personal
Written
Body
Things
Relatable

More quotes by Isaac Marion

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What's the point of trying to fix a world we're so briefly in?
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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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It’s sad to see them staring wistfully through the window when the door isn’t locked.
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It was fun, but it's over now. This is how things go.
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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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A month ago there was nothing on Earth I missed, enjoyed, or longed for. I knew I could lose everything and not feel anything, and I rested easy in that knowledge. But I'm growing tired of easy things.
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But it does make me sad that we've forgotten our names. Out of everything, this seems to me the most tragic. I miss my own and I mourn for everyone else's, because I'd like to love them, but I don't know who they are.
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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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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.
Isaac Marion
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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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Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn't been gnawed to bones by nameless beasts below.
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No praise, no blame. Just so.
Isaac Marion
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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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I sigh inside, so exhausted by these ugly questions, but when did a monster ever deserve its privacy?
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Writing isn't letters on paper. It's communication. It's memory.
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That's why we have memory. And the opposite of memory— hope. So things that are gone can still matter. So we can built off our pasts and make future.
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There’s not really such thing as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people, there’s just like…humanity. And it gets broken sometimes.
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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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Sometimes it's a struggle to live in the moment.
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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