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Human beings are remarkably resilient. When you think about it, our species has been teetering upon the edge of the existential cliff since Hiroshima. In short, we endure.

Rick Yancey

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Rick Yancey
Age: 61
Born: 1962
Born: November 4
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Miami
Florida
Richard Yancey
William James Henry
Will Henry
Teetering
Humans
Edges
Hiroshima
Think
Endure
Remarkably
Thinking
Species
Beings
Cliff
Short
Resilient
Since
Cliffs
Upon
Existential
Human
Edge

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And if humanity is the last war, then I am the battlefield.
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Are you okay? I (Cassie) call up to him. Um. Define okay. (Ben) Okay means you're not bleeding to death. I'm okay.
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I will teach you to love death. I will empty you of grief and guilt and self-pity and fill you up with hate and cunning and the spirit of vengeance. I will make my final stand here, Benjamin Thomas Parish.
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If the world breaks a million and one promises, can you trust the million and second?
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When the moment comes to stop running from your past, to turn around and face the thing you thought you could not face--the moment when your life teeters between giving up and getting up--when that moment comes, and it always comes, if you can't get up and you can't give up either, here's what you do: Crawl.
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I don't care what the stars say about how small we are. One, even the smallest, weakest, most insignificant one, matters.
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Maybe you reach a certain point in evolution where boredom is the greatest threat to your survival. Maybe this isn't a planetary takeover at all, but a game. Like a kid pulling wings off flies.
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God doesn't call the equipped, son. God equips the called. And you have been called.
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I stare at her. I've always known that it's impossible to argue with Belinda, not because she's particularly good at it, but because she's so bad at it- that there is no common ground to work from. She simply sees the world she wants to see it and no amount of logic can change her mind.
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In case you're an alien and you're reading this: BITE ME.
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Prayers and promises. The one his sister made to him. The unspoken one I made to my sister. Prayers are promises, too, and these are the days of broken promises.
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Perhaps God waits for us to be empty, so he may fill us with himself.
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Could there be irony crueler than this? How, upon his rescue, the truth had brought him here, to a house for the mad, for only a madman believes what every child knows to be true: There are monsters that lie in wait under our beds.
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I am a shark, Cassie, he says slowly, drawing the words out, as if he might be speaking to me for the last time. Looking into my eyes with tears in his, as if he's seeing me for the last time. A shark who dreamed he was a man.
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When I wake up the next morning, there's a Hershey's Kiss sitting on the table beside me.
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Some things you can never leave behind. They don't belong to the past. They belong to you.
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I didn't show up here to give your life purpose now that your life's over. That's up to you to figure out.
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It was the price of survival. The cost of his people's last, desperate gamble: To rid his new home of humanity, he had to become human. And being human, he had to overcome his humanity.
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I had it all wrong, he says. Before I found you, I thought the only way to hold on was to find something to live for. It isn't. To hold on, you have to find something you're willing to die for.
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