Quote

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
Moments
Finals
Lumps
Three
Treasure
Pound
Order
Brain
Fade
Never
Feeling
Cling
Call
Tight
Moment
Fades
Hamburger
Feelings
Pounds
Lump
Makes
Final
Hamburgers

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Warm Bodies ended up becoming one of the most personal relatable things I've written.
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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.
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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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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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It was fun, but it's over now. This is how things go.
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What happened? How did I get here? How could I have known that my choices mattered?
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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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What's the point of trying to fix a world we're so briefly in?
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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 can’t seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present.
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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 more eerie to be alone in a city that's lit up and functioning than one that's a tomb. If everything were silent, one could almost pretend to be in nature. A forest. A meadow. Crickets and birdsong. But the corpse of civilization is as restless as the creatures that now roam the graveyards.
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Why is it beautiful that humanity keeps coming back? So does herpes.
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...thinking all this maximalism would somehow generate happiness?
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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 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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You should always be taking pictures, if not with a camera then with your mind. Memories you capture on purpose are always more vivid than the ones you pick up by accident.
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...wanting change is step one, but step two is taking it.
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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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Soft flesh is eaten by hard teeth.
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