Quotes About Survival

Trust your weapon, it is almost certainly smarter than you are. Remember this and you may yet live.

For two years, all you have to do is go where they tell you, stay behind your rifle, and kill and not be killed. It's simple, but simple isn't the same as easy.

Destiny gets compressed, you know, into just that small fraction of a second you have right in front of you at any one time. And there's nothing romantic about keeping your head down to avoid getting shot, or trying to save a friend who's been injured, or coming face to face with a creature who is as smart and mean and as terrified of dying as you are, and who wants to make sure that if someone is left on the ground there, it's you and not it.

Remember that the plant wants to eat you," the groundskeeper said. "It's not going to let you get away. Don't fight it. Let yourself be eaten." "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm finding your advice to be less than one hundred percent helpful

The moral of the story was not to wear a red shirt. Or go on away missions when you're the only one whose name isn't on the opening credits.

A fourth part of his brain was saying, This is the part where you run and scream a lot. He was listening to the fourth part.

If you ever want to feel like you're on the verge of total, abject bowel-releasing terror, try making your way a klick or two out of a forest, at night, with the certain feeling you're being hunted. It makes you feel alive, it really does, but not in a way you want to feel alive.

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.

Are we agreed that the goal here is survival, not a win?

It was breathtaking the situations that humans put themselves into, and still managed to thrive.

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.

Either every member of your pure race of human dies, or every human dies. And, well Ã¢â'¬Â¦ you know how mongrels think, Mr. Smyrt. They have no appreciation for the perfection of purity.

I do have a sense of adventure," I said. "It's overawed by my sense of self-preservation.

They found no colonists, but they found parts of them. And a lot of blood.

It worked because on a social level, apparently enough people wanted it to, and because at the heart of it, billions of humans living in fragile habitats prone to mechanical and environmental breakdowns and degradation, and with limited natural resources, were better off relying on each other than trying to go it alone. Even without the Interdependency, being interdependent was the best way for humanity to survive.

The next day, I got shot in the head. Before that happened, though, I fell out of my bunk. The falling out of the bunk was not the important part.

Creativity eventually comes from the need not to have ourselves or other people eaten by leopards.

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

Here's one way to colonize: You take two hundred or three hundred people, allow them to pack what supplies they see fit, drop them off on the planet of their choice, say "see you," and then come back a year later—after they've all died of malnutrition brought on by ignorance and lack of supplies, or have been wiped out by another species who wants the place for themselves—to pick up the bones. This isn't a very successful way to colonize.

As a general rule when it's a city bus versus any biological creature, it's safe to bet on the bus.

Don't you ever want to stop fighting?" I asked. "Why?" Jane asked. "Well, for one thing, it dramatically cuts down your chances of violent death

No one wants the Interdependency to end. Including the House of Wu. There's too much money and power at stake," Attavio VI said. "And the survival of humanity doesn't matter?" Cardenia asked, incredulously. "Not if it means the end of the Interdependency.

I interned one summer in Washington, D.C., and didn't die," I said.

When you're actively hostile toward ninety-six percent of all the intelligent races you know about, that's not just stupid. It's racial suicide.