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You can order yourself to treasure a moment, to cling tight to a feeling and never let it fade, but it's your brain, that three-pound lump of hamburger, that makes the final call.

Isaac Marion

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Isaac Marion
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: December 30
Music Journalist
Novelist
Writer
Seattle
Washington
Call
Tight
Moment
Fades
Hamburger
Feelings
Pounds
Lump
Makes
Final
Hamburgers
Moments
Finals
Lumps
Three
Treasure
Pound
Order
Brain
Fade
Never
Feeling
Cling

More quotes by Isaac Marion

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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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I think we crushed ourselves down over the centuries. Buried ourselves under greed and hate and whatever other sins we could find until our souls finally hit the rock bottom of the universe. And then they scraped a hole through it, into some ... darker place.
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Once you've arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which route you took.
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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.
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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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I notice faint scars on her wrists and forearms, thin lines too symmetrical to be accidents.
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Why is it beautiful that humanity keeps coming back? So does herpes.
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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.
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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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It was fun, but it's over now. This is how things go.
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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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No praise, no blame. Just so.
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...wanting change is step one, but step two is taking it.
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I feel an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation in my lips, tugging them upward. This is... new.
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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.
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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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Writing isn't letters on paper. It's communication. It's memory.
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I can no longer believe in any voodoo spell or laboratory virus. This is something deeper, darker. This comes from the cosmos, from the stars, or the unknown blackness behind them. The shadows in God's boarded-up basement.
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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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Warm Bodies ended up becoming one of the most personal relatable things I've written.
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