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
what-matters next matter
We are where we are, however we got here. What matters is where we go next.
moon islands space
And yet ... But what if ... I want to do something impossible. Something astounding and unheard of. I want to scrub the moss off the Space Shuttle and fly Julie to the moon and colonise it, or float a capsized cruise ship to some distant island where no one will protest us, or just harness the magic that brings me into the brains of the Living and use it to bring Julie into mine, because it's warm in here, it's quiet and lovely, and in here we aren't an absurd juxtaposition, we are perfect.
mind mouths ceilings
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.
exclamation-marks punctuation-marks long
I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.
zombie lips irony
My friend "M" says the irony of being a zombie is that everything is funny, but you can't smile, because your lips have rotted off.
becoming-one body written
Warm Bodies' ended up becoming one of the most personal relatable things I've written.
dream sleep night
I wonder how well she sleeps at night, and what kind of dreams she has. I wish I could step into them like she steps into mine.
waiting world up-to-you
There is no ideal world for you to wait around for. The world is always just what it is now, and it's up to you how you respond to it.
priceless collectors items
Every experience, good or bad, is a priceless collector's item.
wall memories moving
I'm watching her talk. Watching her jaw move and collecting her words one by one as they spill from her lips. I don't deserve them. Her warm memories. I'd like to paint them over the bare plaster walls of my soul, but everything I paint seems to peel.
feelings scent rooms
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.
echoes people waiting
Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting?
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.