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Isaac Marion Biography

Isaac Marion is an American writer. He is best known as the best-selling author of the "zombie romance" novel Warm Bodies.

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Isaac Marion Quotes

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?

Ears, Energy, Physical, Sound, Telling

What a massive responsibility, being a moral creature

Creature, Creatures, Massive, Moral, Responsibility

Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn't been gnawed to bones by nameless beasts below.

Sleep, Fishing, Mind, Wire, Fingers

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.

Creature, Everything, Judgement, Massive, Mistake, Responsibility

If there are rules, we're the ones making them. We can change them whenever we want to.

Change, Ifs, Making, Ones, Rules, Want

I've always been interested in writing from the perspective of an outsider.

Interested, Outsider, Outsiders, Perspective, Writing

It's not like I'm such a shiny happy person either, you know? I'm a wreck too, I'm just. . . still alive.

Alive, Happy, Happy Person, Person, Wreck, Wrecks

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.

Earth, Easy, Growing, Nothing, Rested, Tired

. . . we shoved out many hopes and fears into their hands, believing those hands were strong because they had firm handshakes. They failed us, always. There was no way they could not fail us - they were human, and so were we.

Strong, Believe, Hands, Fail, Hopes

I notice faint scars on her wrists and forearms, thin lines too symmetrical to be accidents.

Faint, Forearms, Lines, Scar, Symmetrical

Last winter, when so many Living joined the Dead and our prey became scarce, I watched some of my friends become full-dead. The transition was undramatic. They just slowed down, then stopped, and after a while I realised they were corpses. It disquieted me at first, but it’s against etiquette to notice when one of us dies. I distracted myself with some groaning.

Become, Lasts, Scarce, Transition, Winter

What's the point of trying to fix a world we're so briefly in?

Briefly, Fix, Point, Trying, World

We're fumbling in the dark, but at least we're in motion.

Dark, Fumbling, Motion

Deep under our feet the Earth holds its molten breath, while the bones of countless generations watch us and wait.

Breath, Deep, Feet, Under, Waiting, Watches

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.

Entire, Feelings, Life, Rooms, Scent, Utterly

The moment the light went out, everyone stopped pretending.

Light, Moments, Pretending, Stopped

Writing isn't letters on paper. It's communication. It's memory.

Memories, Communication, Writing, Paper, Letters

Even in my bravest moment, I am a coward.

Bravest, Coward, Moment, Moments

She gathers my half of the blankets around her and curls up against the wall. She will sleep for hours more, dreaming endless landscapes and novas of colour both gorgeous and frightening. If I stayed she would wake up and describe them to me. All the mad plot twists and surrealist imagery, so vivid to her while so meaningless to me. There was a time when I treasured listening to her, when I found the commotion in her soul bitter-sweet and lovely, but I can no longer bear it.

Dream, Love, Soul, Sweet, Wake, Wall

It frustrates and fascinates me that we'll never know for sure, that despite the best efforts of historians and scientists and poets, there are some things we'll just never know. What the first song sounded like. How it felt to see the first photograph. Who kissed the first kiss, and if it was any good.

Best Effort, Fascinates, Kissed, Kissing, See, Song

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Isaac Marion Biography

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