Quotes from Max Brooks

As stated before, in Western—particularly American—culture, there is the myth of the individual superbeing. One man or woman, well-armed and highly skilled, with nerves of steel, can conquer the world. In truth, anyone believing this should simply strip naked, holler for the undead, then lay down on a silver platter.

From that moment on we lived in true freedom, the freedom to point to someone else and They told me to do it! It's their fault, not mine.

The human heart can only absorb so much pain.

Americans are an honest people, we expect a fair deal. I know that a lot of other cultures used to think that was naive and even childish, but it's one of our most sacred principles.

I hope what I've learned helps you find your way. Most of all, I hope you've learned that in this world of mines and crafting, the most important thing you can craft is you.

No sé si los grandes hombres son productos de tiempos difíciles, pero sé que pueden ser sus víctimas.

When you think about the CIA, you probably imagine two of our most popular and enduring myths. The first is that our mission is to search the globe for any conceivable threat to the United States, and the second is that we have the power to perform the first. This myth is the by-product of an organization, which, by its very nature, must exist and operate in secrecy. Secrecy is a vacuum and nothing fills a vacuum like paranoid speculation.

A lie will gallop halfway round the world before the truth has time to pull its breeches on. —CORDELL HULL, secretary of state to President Franklin Delano Roosevelt

He comes from the grave, his body a home of worms and filth. No life in his eyes, no warmth of his skin, no beating of his breast. His soul, as empty and dark as the night sky. He laughs at the blade, spits at the arrow, for they will not harm his flesh. For eternity, he will walk the earth, smelling the sweet blood of the living, feasting upon the bones of the damned. Beware, for he is the living dead. —OBSCURE HINDU TEXT, CIRCA 1000 B.C.E.

Fear is a real, present, right-in-your-face threat. Anxiety comes from a potential—or in this case, future—threat. Fear can be conquered. Anxiety has to be endured.

They used to call it the 'Great War'. But I'll be damned if I could tell you what was so 'great' about it. They also called it 'the war to end all wars'...'cause they figured it was so big and awful that the world'd just have to come to its senses and make damn sure we never fought another one ever again. That woulda been a helluva nice story. But the truth's got an ugly way of killin' nice stories.

And Professor Tongun, from Sudan, "Like a tree in the forest, America doesn't hear foreign suffering.

it's not failure that matters, but how you recover from it.

You can't stop the rain. All you can do is just build a roof that you hope won't leak, or at least won't leak on the people who are gonna vote for you.

You can tell everything about a person by what happens when he opens his mouth.

History has proven that a well-trained individual, with nothing but a rock, has a better chance of survival than a novice with the latest technological marvel.

I couldn't believe that something so beautiful could come from fire.

most people would rather face the light of a real enemy than the darkness of their imagined fears. How

Oh c'mon. Can you ever solve poverty? Can you ever solve crime? Can you ever solve disease, unemployment, war, or any other societal herpes? Hell no. All you can hope for is to make them manageable enough to allow people to get on with their lives. All you can do is just build a roof that you hope won't leak, or at least won't leak on the people who are gonna vote for you.

But isn't the human factor what connects us so deeply to our past?

People only see the present through the lenses of their personal pasts." Her lips soured. "Maybe that's my problem too.

We lost a hell of a lot more than just people when we abandoned them to the dead.

It wasn't perfect, but it would do for a few seconds, long enough to hole up and wait for the shooting to die down. Only it didn't. Pistols, shotguns, and that clatter you never forget, the kind that tells you someone has a Kalashnikov.

Happy but isn't the human factor what connexus a deeply to our past will future generations care as much for chronologies and casualty statistics as they would for the personal accounts of individuals not so different from themselves.