Top 100 Isaac Marion Quotes
#1. Everything dies eventually. We all know that. People, cities, whole civilations. Nothing lasts. So if existence was just binary, dead or alive, here or not here, what would be the fucking point in anything?
Isaac Marion
#2. Enough white lies can scorch the earth black.
Isaac Marion
#3. What happened? How did I get here? How could I have known that my choices mattered?
Isaac Marion
#4. I wake up next to a woman. I'm not sure which one. My eyes burn and my head throbs; even the pricey stuff does it. No matter how much you pay for the drink, you pay again in the morning.
Isaac Marion
#5. 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?
Isaac Marion
#7. Music is life! It's physical emotion-you can touch! It's neon ecto-energy sucked out of spirits and switched into soundwaves for your ears to swallow.
Isaac Marion
#8. Is that your wife?" Julie asks again, more forcefully. I nod. "Who's that ... guy she's with?" I shrug. "Is she cheating on you or something?" I shrug. "This doesn't bother you?"
I shrug.
"Stop shrugging, you asshole! I know you can talk; say something.
Isaac Marion
#9. SS: How would you describe your life in only 8 words?
IM: So, so, so, so, so, so, so awesome.
Isaac Marion
#10. I have no answer for her. But I look into her face, her pale cheeks, her red lips bright with life and tender as an infant's, and I understand that I love her. And if she is everything, maybe that's
Isaac Marion
#11. I crush her against me. I want to be part of her. Not just inside her but all around her. I want our rib cages to crack open and our hearts to migrate and merge. I want our cells to braid together like living thread.
Isaac Marion
#12. Is equally young and foolish in the wide lens of history, and the arrogant denial of this is what unraveled the world.
Isaac Marion
#13. But I'm not afraid of the skeletons in Julie's closet. I look forward to meeting the rest of them, looking them hard in the eye, giving them firm, bone-crunching handshakes.
Isaac Marion
#15. Here we are on the road. We must be going somewhere.
Isaac Marion
#16. There is mud everywhere, slicking the asphalt and piling up in corners along with the detritus of daily life: pop cans, cigarette butts, used condoms and bullet shells.
Isaac Marion
#17. I know from grim experience that there is a beauty to her inner layers, too. Marvels of symmetry and craftsmanship sealed away inside her like the jewelled movements of a timepiece, fine works of art never meant to be seen.
Isaac Marion
#18. I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.
Isaac Marion
#19. Are we all just Dark Age doctors, swearing by our leeches? We crave a greater science. We want to be proven wrong.
Isaac Marion
#21. Nature is hungry. It is ready to take back what the man stole from it by living.
Isaac Marion
#22. My mind has cleared a little; I've regained some instincts and associations, echoes of the Living world if not actual memories. Those I still have to steal.
Isaac Marion
#23. There on the hot white roof of humanity's last outpost, we look out over our rapidly, hopelessly, irretrievably changing world, and we sing: Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world.
Isaac Marion
#24. God has made us study partner. We need to talk about our project.
Isaac Marion
#25. A month ago there was nothing on Earth I missed, enjoyed, or longed for. I knew I could lose everything and not feel anything, and I rested easy in that knowledge. But I'm growing tired of easy things.
Isaac Marion
#26. I don't know ... there's something kind of beautiful about it, don't you think? That we keep living and growing even though our world is a corpse? That we keep coming back no matter how many of us die?
Isaac Marion
#27. I notice faint scars on her wrists and forearms, thin lines too symmetrical to be accidents.
Isaac Marion
#28. My mom used to say that's why we have memory. And the opposite of memory - hope. So things that are gone can still matter. So we can build off our pasts and make futures.
Isaac Marion
#29. In the darkest and strangest of places with the most macabre of company, this music moves her and her life pulses hard... And even for Julie's safety, I can't bring myself to smother it.
Isaac Marion
#31. What, you don't eat fat people?'
'Fat ... not alive. Waste product. Need meet.
Isaac Marion
#32. Maybe this is why I sleep only a few hours a month. I don't want to die again. This has become clearer and clearer to me recently, a desire so sharp and focused I can hardly believe it's mine: I don't want to die. I don't want to disappear. I want to stay.
Isaac Marion
#33. I'm alone, stumbling through the city in the dark, trying not to let the night freeze my blood.
Isaac Marion
#35. 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?
Isaac Marion
#36. It feels like days since we've made eye contact. We avoid it like we expect to be injured. When did we learn to fear each other? To flinch away from what we imagine the other is thinking, the cruelties we've written and placed in each other's mouths?
Isaac Marion
#37. The past is made out of facts ... I guess the future is just hope.
Isaac Marion
#38. The windows are empty holes lined with glass teeth.
Isaac Marion
#39. I clink my glass against hers and we drink without toasting. The aged cognac tastes like history. Not the kind taught in schools, full of wars and politics and cultural revolution - the smaller, softer history of a world with only two people in it.
Isaac Marion
#40. Just ... ate," M says, frowning at me a little. "Two days ... ago."
I grab my stomach again. "Feel empty. Feel ... dead."
He nods. "Marr ... iage.
Isaac Marion
#41. Wanting change is step one, but step two is taking it.
Isaac Marion
#43. 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.
Isaac Marion
#44. Your dreamers. You ridiculous children. You dancing grinning fuckups. Here is your bright future. Your earnest, saccharine hope. How does it taste dripping from the neck of everyone you love?
Isaac Marion
#45. And you know the craziest part, R?' she says.
'Sometimes I barely believe you're a zombie. Sometimes I think you're just wearing stage make-up, because when you smile ... it's pretty hard to believe.
Isaac Marion
#46. It's sad to see them staring wistfully through the window when the door isn't locked.
Isaac Marion
#47. I grab my stomach again. "Feel empty. Feel . . . dead." He nods. "Marr . . . iage." I glare at him. I shake my head and clutch my stomach harder.
Isaac Marion
#48. I'd like to sit down with him and pick his brain, just a tiny bite somewhere in the frontal lobe to get a taste of his thoughts -Warm Bodies
Isaac Marion
#49. hierarchies are lies. Because no one needs the alpha. He gets to the top by puffing and bluffing until we all believe he belongs there. When your power is built on ignorance, you don't want people talking to each other.
Isaac Marion
#50. There is a chasm between me and the world outside of me. A gap so wide my feelings can't cross it. By the time my screams reach the other side, they have dwindled into groans.
Isaac Marion
#51. Our cadaverous cadre has been walking for little over a day ...
Isaac Marion
#52. If there are rules, we're the ones making them. We can change them whenever we want to.
Isaac Marion
#53. No need to speak. No need to listen. Everything is already known. That is how things are done. Always has been. Always will be.
Isaac Marion
#54. She is Living and I'm Dead, but I'd like to believe we're both human. Call me an idealist.
Isaac Marion
#55. The moment the light went out, everyone stopped pretending.
Isaac Marion
#56. When a corpse tells you how to live, do the opposite.
Isaac Marion
#57. Maybe you're not such a monster, Mr Zombie. I mean, anyone who appreciates a good beer is at least halfway okay in my book.
Isaac Marion
#59. We don't care about assigning blame for the human condition, we just want to cure it.
Isaac Marion
#60. This was the final weight that broke my mind's kneecaps.
Isaac Marion
#61. I know I'm not going to say good-bye. And if these staggering refugees want to help, if they think they see something bigger here than a boy chasing a girl, then they can help, and we'll see what happens when we say yes while the rigor mortis world screams no.
Isaac Marion
#62. I don't know the pain she's speaking from, but I know it's deep. It makes her hard and yet so terribly soft. It's her thorns and it's her hand reaching out from the thicket.
Isaac Marion
#63. Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting?
Isaac Marion
#64. Crying. Expelling grief from the body in the form of salt water. What's its purpose? How did it evolve, and why are humans the only creatures on Earth that do it? Nora wonders how many years it takes to dry up that messy urge.
Isaac Marion
#65. Sometimes I wonder if he has a philosophy. Maybe even a worldview. I'd like to sit down with him and pick his brain, just a tiny bit somewhere in the frontal lobe to get a taste of his thoughts. But he's too much of a toughguy to ever be that vulnerable. - R on M
Isaac Marion
#66. Every experience, good or bad, is a priceless collector's item.
Isaac Marion
#67. After finishing my drink I feel a pressure in my lower regions, and I realize I have to piss. Since the Dead don't drink, urination is a rare event. I hope I can remember how to do it.
Isaac Marion
#68. It was fun, but it's over now. This is how things go.
Isaac Marion
#69. Even as I think them, the words lose their context, dissolve into grains of absurdity in the vast ocean of day-to-day hunger.
Isaac Marion
#70. I used to split my time between writing, music and painting. I would work on a book and then abandon it, start a band, do an album, quit music, then do a gallery show. Eventually I decided to give writing a serious shot.
Isaac Marion
#71. I assumed it was perfect, that everyone was happy and beautiful and wanted for nothing, and in my numb, limited way I felt envy and wanted to eat them all the more
Isaac Marion
#72. Regret is pointless. I never do anything without first deciding to do it based on facts and feelings, and if it doesn't work out how I hoped, oh well - there's another notch on my experience belt.
Isaac Marion
#74. 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.
Isaac Marion
#75. Once you've arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which route you took.
Isaac Marion
#76. We have to remember everything. If we don't, by the time we grow up it'll be gone forever.
Isaac Marion
#77. You know things are moving. You're changing, you fellow Dead are changing, the world is ready for something miraculous. What are we waiting for?
Isaac Marion
#78. I've always been interested in writing from the perspective of an outsider.
Isaac Marion
#79. 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 -
Isaac Marion
#80. What I'm saying is, when you have weight like that in your life, you have to start looking for the bigger picture or you are gonna sink.
Isaac Marion
#81. But no, "R." No sleep of the innocent. Not for you. Did you forget? You have blood on your hands. On your lips. On your teeth. Smile for the cameras.
Isaac Marion
#82. I guess I talk a lot of shit about Perry, but it's not like I'm such a shiny happy person either, you know? I'm a wreck too. I'm just ... still alive. A wreck in progress.
Isaac Marion
#83. Maybe eventually winter will finish our job for us and end the world in ice instead of blood.
Isaac Marion
#84. I can feel it ... the chance to start over, to live right, to love right, to burn up in a fiery cloud and never again be buried in the mud.
Isaac Marion
#85. We smelted our ideals under great heat and pressure until the soft parts burned away, and what emerged was a tempered frame rigid enough to endure the cruel world we'd created.
Isaac Marion
#86. He didn't come to make friends. He's got fire in his eyes and a sword in his mouth and he came to cut the world in half.
Isaac Marion
#87. Once again the absurdity of my inner thoughts overwhelms me, and I want to crawl out of my skin, escape my ugly, awkward flesh and be a skeleton, naked and anonymous.
Isaac Marion
#88. It's a shitty world and shit happens, but we don't have to bathe in shit.
Isaac Marion
#89. I can't seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present.
Isaac Marion
#90. The future is as blurry to me as the past. I can't seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present, and the present isn't exactly urgent. You might say death has relaxed me.
Isaac Marion
#91. I hate that she's hurt. I hate that she's been hurt, by me and by others, throughout the entire arc of her life. I barely remember pain, but when I see it in her I feel it in myself, in disproportionate measure. it creeps into my eyes, stinging, burning.
Isaac Marion
#92. Writing isn't letters on paper. It's communication. It's memory.
Isaac Marion
#93. 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.
Isaac Marion
#94. We sit against the tiles of the bathroom wall with our legs sprawled out in front of us, passing the brain back and forth, taking small, leisurely bites and enjoying brief flashes of human experience.
'Good ... shit,' M wheezes.
Isaac Marion
#95. 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.
Isaac Marion
#96. Okay?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, cringes at the smell of my fluids, then nods. "Okay.
Isaac Marion
#97. 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.
Isaac Marion
#98. The Dead are a larger army than any ever assembled, and they follow no leader, fear no threat, and accept no bribe or compromise. The Dead are the silent majority, and should they ever decide to say something, it will be the new law of the land.
Isaac Marion
#99. Is this muteness a real physical handicap? One of the many symptoms of being Dead?Or do we just have nothing left to say?
Isaac Marion
#100. I'm sorry I can't properly introduce myself, but I don't have a name anymore. Hardly any of us do. We lose them like car keys, forget them like anniversaries.
Isaac Marion
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