Zombies Quotes - Page 7

‘There’s no time for right or wrong,’ I said.

You shouldn’t have done that, Dave.

She played me with a bad hand, and I fell for it every time.

Remember. Observe, assess and act. No hesitation. No remorse.

I turned to her, my whole body hard with tiredness and regret.

There’s nothing worse than delivering bad news to women. I hoped I wouldn’t get good at it.

She smiled at him like a freshman invited to the senior prom. It made my blood boil.

The people inside the gym didn’t stand a dead drunk’s chance.

The sound of him drinking was indescribable—like dirty runoff down a storm drain.

This guy was a humorless bag of nothing but.

Smiling, he handed Landry the bloody aluminum bat Warnick had used. ‘Time to die, old man,’ he said.

She gave herself a hard twist and fell into a sitting position, staring at me with those maggot-filled doll’s eyes.

Sal turned, an eye stalk hanging from his teeth.

When I lifted up the skin, a fat kidney worm dripping with gore raised its bald, blind head and glared at me.

It’s not about winning, it’s about doing what’s right. And yes, we will do what’s right.

I’m not a bad person.

I was a spectator who had gotten free admission to a freak show.

We are born. We die. Somewhere in between we live. And how we live is up to us. That’s it.

What I learned in this tragedy was the eternal lesson of good people going bad.

I thought if I loved you enough I could change you. I was so stupid.

This place is Hell’s waiting room.

There’s no better way for a woman to punish a man than to make him sleep away from her.

People talk about survival. What they mean is killing the other guy.

I like to think she hates my guts a little less every hour.

A man’s principles are his own. Man starts flip-flopping on what he believes based on outside influences and he may as well run for congress.

J.J. Zep

My family has a Christmas tradition: Every year, they kill my mom.

The dead have existed for as long as the living, give or take a few years. But what good has that done them?

Don't Fear the Reaper.

Corpses were real. He had heard about these cannibal dead walkers in the northeast, but they were in fact real. Rumor had it that one - just one - had made its way down towards the Mid-Atlantic.The rumored Dead Walker lived.

Come now, I was not about to let that thing eat you.

My Heart's still beating for you—Very Dark and Always.

No, not my spirit, just my ego, and my arms, and my chest, and my back, but luckily they are just bruised.” Squanto responded, “I fear you may not be so lucky.

He first noticed it on the plane ride. There was an odor about her and it was becoming more pronounced with each passing hour. It was like the smell of rotting meat.

Joseph M. Chiron

I am beyond good and evil at this point. I am beyond the lines drawn in the sand by society at this juncture. I am beyond fear, beyond religion, beyond the morals and mores. I am Lord of the Fucking Flies. Do you understand?

Jason S. Hornsby

Rushing out the door on his way back to the street, he ran into someone with his shoulder. Turning to apologize to them, he stopped, horrified at what he saw.It was the white-eyed man he’d met a week ago.t“Watch your back.” He said standing there just long enough for Raven to take in the meat between his teeth, the milky, nearly opaque color of his eyes and the madness within them. Then, after only a few seconds, he was gone, vanished into the crowd as if he had never existed.tCertain his mind was playing tricks and tired of being terrified for his sanity, he headed down the street as fast as he could in pursuit. As he rushed through the tightly packed crowd, he saw others like the man he’d just seen, and each of their white eyes gazed blankly into his. A woman here, a hunched drifter there, shapes and faces that shifted and darted all around him. “Watch your back.” They hissed, and he tried to move faster, his heart racing and the nerves of his body jangling painfully with fear as he fought to get beyond them.tHands reached out for his clothes, pulling him in different directions as they tugged and he struggled to be free. Their fingers felt like talons clasped into the folds and gaps of his clothing, ripping and popping stitches in their fervor to gain some small grasp on his flesh beneath his jacket. Along with the horror of their cold, dead eyes, he could smell some strangeness—a sickly sweet smell of rot and decay only barely closeted by preserving fluids. The smell dug into his sinuses as their fingers and hands dug at him. He gagged, his teeth clenched tight as he exerted energy he didn’t really have. He pushed away from them and on through the empty space he saw at the end of this group of pedestrians. Many of whom mingled with what he now felt must be the dead, wholly unaware of why he flailed and pushed against them.

Amanda M. Lyons

Ebola then turns the insides of its host into jelly: you begin to vomit black junk which is basically your dissolved liver and internal organs.

It had initially been thought that the zombie virus was an offshoot of Ebola. Many zombie-virus symptoms mimicked the terrible, hemorrhagic fever.

Todd’s wife was one of those women with a forced smile perpetually cemented on her face. Even after being chased by a mob of homicidal maniacs and attempting to barricade doors with barstools she kept up appearances, practicing for the days when her husband would be running for public office. When she saw her son poking at their former mail carrier’s dead body a look of utter horror came across her face for the slightest instant. She caught herself and put that smile back on so quickly Will wondered if she might have pulled a few cheek muscles.t“Trevor!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Trevor, you get away from that this instant! You don’t know what kind of diseases that man had. Children shouldn’t play with dead things.”tWill looked at Todd and smirked. “Cute kid. How many of those things do you think are out there?

It was dark enough that I couldn't make out their features, but I could see that someone was cutting through the links of the fence. There was a sense of urgency about those that watched him, some of them turning to peer over their shoulders into the brush and foliage that edged the fence. I watched them in horror, a sense of dread washing over me. What kind of horrors had they led to our very doorstep?

This is what my high school life had become—a horror show of epic, mind-fuck proportions.

Nice driving, ya doomed fucks!

When asked what profession they like least, most people will give the obvious answer: clowns.

This is why it is important never to pick or smell flowers, and to always wear headgear when admiring them.

Nothing says you care like sending someone a kitten.

Brunch is such an odd thing. It was created by fat, lazy people who were too lazy to wake up at a reasonable hour and too fat to wait until the next proper time for dining.

The less one knows about meat, the more one is able to enjoy it. Meat tastes wonderful, of course, but as with the lad hawking hard-to-find wares at unbelievable prices, it’s best not to ask too many questions.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. This isn’t correct. Revenge is a dish best served lukewarm or at room temperature (depending on the room) with a side of sauerkraut lightly sprinkled with pepper, a generous helping of golden brown roasted potatoes, and a large loaf of marble rye, washed down with any kind of unfiltered wheat beer.But whatever you do—and remember this, as it can be a matter of life or death—don’t put any sort of fruit in the beer. Fruit doesn’t belong in beer.

Clear skin, a manicure, a couple dead zombies, and then fame!

I think everyone should have a problem with zombies on fire.

...seeing the way his trousers clung to those most English parts.

Seth Grahame-Smith

What’s that supposed to mean, ‘a passin’ hunger?’ I ATE my fuckin’ girlfriend! An’ we ain’t talkin’ little fuckin’ love bites or a bit of a chew—I went wild kingdom on her ass! It was like a pig pickin’ after fuckin’ Lent-FUCK!

Bodies lay in the sun. Bodies stood in the sun.

When she had died, his anchor was gone and the world had burned from his untethered insanity.

It's why I get miffed at all the dashing around in recent zombie films. It completely misses the point; transforms the threat to a straightforward physical danger from the zombies themselves, rather than our own inability to avoid them and these films are about us, not them. There's far more meat on the bones of the latter, far more juicy interpretation to get our teeth into. The first zombie is by comparison thin and one dimensional and ironically, it is down to all the exercise.

In an age of rust, she comes up stainless steel

Walking out in the middle of a funeral would be, of course, bad form. So attempting to walk out on one's own was beyond the pale.

Steve Hockensmith

Blood is really warm,it's like drinking hot chocolatebut with more screaming.

Some necrophobes earn their own fates.

David S.E. Zapanta

I wish I could break this window. Step through it. But I can't break this window. I can't even find some less dramatic way to die inside of this school, like hanging myself or slitting my wrists, because what would they do with my body? It might put everyone at risk. I won't let myself do that.I'm not selfish like Lily.I hate her. I hate her so much my heart tries to crawl out of my throat but it gets stuck there and beats crazily in the too narrow space. I bring my hands to my neck and try to massage it back down. I pres so heard against the skin, my eyes sting, and then I'm hurrying back down the stairs, back to the first floor. I think of Trace running laps, something he can control.

Courtney Summers

Sometimes I have to act crazy to handle the crazies. Trying to be normal near the crazies makes me as crazy as them. The more I push reason and logic on them, the more they pervert it and use it against me, the angrier they make me feel. It's much easier to pretend they're ghosts talking to the wind, and ignore them as if they weren't really human. My mood improves, my self-esteem is better and I feel happier. On another hand, maybe I'm just being realistic here, because you can't really talk to the dead. That's what people without respect or empathy are; dead in the brain; just walking bodies without a soul.

Robin Sacredfire

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