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I love my virginity to the apocalypse.

Scott Westerfeld

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Scott Westerfeld
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: May 5
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Dallas
Texas
Scott David Westerfeld
Virginity
Apocalypse
Love

More quotes by Scott Westerfeld

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you dont see me, now you do, but only if i want you to
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Life doesn't come with an instruction manual.
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Around the outskirts of the city, cut off from town by the black oval of the river, everything was in darkness. Everyone ugly was in bed by now.
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Didn't this beat everything? A pretty and an ugly taking a stroll together. The warden came closer, confusion all over his middle-pretty face. Tally smiled. At least she was causing trouble to the end. I'm Tally Youngblood, she said. Make me pretty.
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If you see everything through hovercams and feed stories, you wind up blind to what's right in front of you.
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I go where the lizards tell me.
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Okay... That's still blind-making.
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Perhaps Clankers and Darwinists would always be at war, if only in their hearts.
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Let others wage war. You, lucky Austria, shall marry.
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You see, freedom has a way of destroying things.
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Everyone in the world was programmed by the place they were born, hemmed in by their beliefs, but you had to at least try to grow your own brain.
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Sometimes you can’t choose what you love.
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You're insane! she shouted. Pretty cool, huh? No!Tally yelled. Why didn't you tell me it was broken? Shay shrugged. More fun that way? More fun? Her heart beating fast,her vision strangely clear. She was full of anger and relief and...joy. Well, kind of. But you suck!
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And here in America rival newspapermen attack each other on sight?
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The lie took form as she spoke, pulling on as many strands of truth as it could reach.
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He squeezed her hand. Then I'll come get you, wherever you are when it happens. We'll be okay. But what about everybody else? He stared out across the river, nodding slowly. My guess is, everybody else is in big trouble.
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We needed to become world-famous soon, while there was still that kind of world to be famous in.
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The world needed more fireworks- especially now that there was going to be a shortage of beautiful, useless things.
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A rat called Possible New Strain was sitting under a spaghetti strainer held down with a pile of journalism textbooks, saying rude things in rat-speak.
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I used to be a pre-industrial writer: thousands of words in a spurt and then a few days off. But as I get older, I've switched to a mode best described as 'slow and steady wins the race.' Basically, I write during the same four hours every day, after breakfast and the all-important coffee, generally in the same room and wearing the same pajamas.
Scott Westerfeld