Human beings are remarkably resilient. When you think about it, our species has been teetering upon the edge of the existential cliff since Hiroshima. In short, we endure.
It's like a cockroach working up a plan to defeat the shoe on its way down to crush it.
The spring rains woke the dormant tillers, and bright green shoots sprang from the moist earth and rose like sleepers stretching after a long nap. As spring gave way to summer, the bright green stalks darkened, became tan, turned golden brown. The days grew long and hot. Thick towers of swirling black clouds brought rain, and the brown stems glistened in the perpetual twilight that dwelled beneath the canopy. The wheat rose and the ripening heads bent in the prairie wind, a rippling curtain, an endless, undulating sea that stretched to the horizon.
A miscalculation is not negligence, nor prudence a crime. I am a scientist. I base my action or inaction upon probability and evidence. There is a reason we call science a discipline! Inferior minds bolt or build pyres to roast the witches in their midst!
To hold on, you have to find something you’re willing to die for.
You're mortal, and only a mortal can afford to be romantic. When we conquered death, we murdered love.
Sci-Fi is the genre that explored both possibilities: the end of our existential crisis and the end of our existence. My novel, The 5th Wave, explores the latter scenario, because, frankly, I believe it represents the likeliest outcome of an extraterrestrial encounter. In short, if they're out there, we better hope they never find us.
And if humanity is the last war, then I am the battlefield.
As long as you draw breath anywhere -here or ten thousands miles from here- I will love you. I can't help loving you, so I choose to hate you...to make my love bearable.
He spreads his fingers over my heart, like he’s holding it, like it belongs to him, the hard-fought-for territory he’s won fair and square.
The beautiful wooden board on a stand in my father's study. The gleaming ivory pieces. The stern king. The haughty queen. The noble knight. The pious bishop. And the game itself, the way each piece contributed its individual power to the whole. It was simple. It was complex. It was savage; it was elegant. It was a dance; it was a war. It was finite and eternal. It was life.
In case you're an alien and you're reading this: BITE ME.
In every creepy movie ever made, the barn is the prime nesting ground for the things you don't know you're looking for and always regret finding.
We are the clay, and you are Michelangelo. And we will be your masterpiece.
When I wake up the next morning, there's a Hershey's Kiss sitting on the table beside me.
The world is a clock winding down.
And then Evan Walker kisses me.
Are you okay?" I (Cassie) call up to him. "Um. Define okay." (Ben) "Okay means you're not bleeding to death." "I'm okay.
I didn't save you," he whispers, lips tickling my eyelashes. "You saved me.
She hated him and loved him, longed for him and loathed him, and cursed herself for feeling anything at all
Yes, my dear child, monsters are real. I happen to have one hanging in my basement.
Self-pity is egotism undiluted, after all—self-centeredness in its purest form.
I start to unbutton his shirt. "Got to get these clothes off," I mutter. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that." Smile. Lopsided. Sexy.
The doctor frowned upon drinking and often expressed wonderment at men who willingly made imbeciles of themselves.
I will teach you to love death. I will empty you of grief and guilt and self-pity and fill you up with hate and cunning and the spirit of vengeance. I will make my final stand here, Benjamin Thomas Parish.
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