Quotes About Life

What is it like when you lose someone you love?" Jane asked. "You die, too," I said. "And you wait around for your body to catch up." "Is that what you're doing now?" Jane said. "Waiting for your body to catch up, I mean." "No, not anymore," I said. "You eventually get to live again. You just live a different life, is all.

The problem with aging is not that it's one damn thing after another—it's every damn thing, all at once, all the time.

I was getting away with something in my own way. But then I get here and saw you, brain-dead and with tubes coming out of every part of your body. And I realized I wasn't getting away with anything. Just like you didn't get away with anything. You were just born, fucked around for a while, got hit by a car and died, and that's your whole life story right there. You don't win by getting through all you life not having done anything.

She thought it was pretty much the only way to be in a universe that didn't care about anyone's life one way or another, and in a civilization that was designed to keep the rich as rich as possible and the poor from actively starving so they wouldn't think to rise up and behead the rich.

Then you're seventy-five, friends are dead, and you've replaced at least one major organ: you have to pee four times a night, and you can't go up a flight a stairs without being little winded -- and your're told you're in pretty good shape for your age. [....], in a decade you'll be eighty-five, and the only difference between you and a raisin will be that while you're both wrinkled and without a prostate, the raisin never had a prostate to begin with.

Life goes on even when Jenkins' 'Narrative' is supposed to apply.

There was no need to import my crippling diet cola addiction to a brand-new world, and besides, the fountain was Pepsi products anyway. New planet, new life.

Victor Frankenstein had assembled from the bodies of the dead and then jolted into life. Jared saw how Frankenstein felt pride in creating life, but how he feared and rejected the creature once that life had been given; how the creature lashed out, killing the doctor's family and friends, and how creator and created were finally consumed in a pyre, their fates interlocked. The allusions between the monster and the Special Forces were all too obvious.

I love her more than I actually express in words—an irony for a writer—and am every day genuinely amazed I get to spend my life with her.

Listen to me or don't. But if you don't, you'll be dead. And then where will you be? Dead, that's where.

Humans, being intermediary creatures in both time and space, did not fully appreciate the value of life at every physical and temporal scale.

I don't discount that in the end, everything I do, say, write and am will amount to a whole lot of not much; I just don't think it's a relevant metric. The relevant metric is: Have I constructed a life that gives me happiness, allows me to give happiness, and allows for this life to have meaning within its admittedly limited context? If I am succeeding in this particular metric, I think I'm doing pretty well.

You could say our new colonies live off the bodies of the dead. Only they're not really the bodies of the dead. They're just the cast-off bodies of the living.

Realborn go for years without the slightest clue what they're going to do with themselves. From what I understand, some of them never actually figure it out. They just walk through life in a daze and then fall into their graves at the end of it.

Your friend Leon certainly didn't join to be in the military - he can't stand the people we will protect. People join because they're not ready to die and they don't want to be old. They join because life on Earth isn't interesting past a certain age. Or they join to see someplace new before they die. That's why I joined, you know. I'm not joining to fight or be young again. I just want to see what it's like to be somewhere else .

I am not Death. I am killing; I am the verb, I am the action, I am the performance.

How is it so far?" asked Cloud. "How is what so far?" "This," Cloud said, and motioned around him. "Life. The universe. Everything.

Welcome to the fucking universe! The universe is a fucked-up place, my friends.

If God or gods existed, and this was all they put together for eternal life, I wasn't very impressed with their user experience.

But my writing won't ever reflect the diversity that literature in general should be capable of. You need writers whose lives are not like mine for that.

But whether it truly exists or not, humans need the idea of Hell, whether it be to scare us into a moral life, comfort the smug ones who believe everyone else is going there, or simply to remind us that the actions of our lives, good or ill, live beyond those lives themselves, and the accounting of them may occur past the day we ourselves happen to stop.

Pensé que había muerto y estaba en el cielo. Como estaba oficialmente difunto en la Tierra y volaba por el sistema solar en una nave espacial, supongo que no andaba muy desencaminado.

The problem with aging is not that it's one damn thing after another—it's every damn thing, all at once, all the time. You

Their lives were their own, and in their way they loved and feared and wondered and hoped. They did not expect me to be the end of all of that.