Isaac Marion
Isaac Marion
Isaac Marion is an American writer. He is best known as the best-selling author of the "zombie romance" novel Warm Bodies...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
CountryUnited States of America
order feelings brain
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.
mistake responsibility judgement
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.
coward moments
Even in my bravest moment, I am a coward.
beautiful humanity doe
Why is it beautiful that humanity keeps coming back? So does herpes.
eye long pieces
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.
song years my-favorite
My favorite songs change every year.
wall real lying
My "heart". Does that pitiful organ still represent anything? It lies motionless in my chest, pumping no blood, serving no purpose, and yet my feelings still seem to originate inside its cold walls. My muted sadness, my vague longing, my rare flickers of joy. They pool in the center of my chest and seep out of there, diluted and faint, but real.
eerie civilization cities
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.
lasts might last-time
Everything you see, you might be seeing for the last time.
home remember-you remembers-you
Came to . . . see you.” “But I had to go home, remember? You were supposed to say good-bye.” “Don't know why you . . . say good-bye. I say . . . hello.” Her lip quivers between reactions, but she ends up with a reluctant smile. “God you're a cheeseball. But seriously, R—
passing-on who-we-are population
It’s not about keeping up the population, it’s about passing on who we are and what we've learned, so things keep going. So we don’t just end.
hate thinking rocks
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.
lips tugging feels
I feel an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation in my lips, tugging them upward. This is... new.
sports party home
The sports arena Julie calls home is unaccountably large, perhaps one of those dual-event 'super venues' built for an era when the greatest quandary facing the world was where to put all the parties.