There’s the bullshit you know that you know; the bullshit you don’t know and know you don’t know; and the bullshit you just think you know but really don’t.

What is life without death, Beneficent? You of all people can answer that question. A never-ending orgy of emptiness that you stuff with meaningless activity. Everything is disposable, including your relationships–especially your your relationships.

Great sci-fi has never shied from tackling the Big Questions, though really great sci-fi never forgets to entertain us along the way. Shock and awe applies to art, as well.

Everything’s going to be okay’, because that’s what I wanted him to say and it’s what he wanted to say and that’s what you do when the curtain is falling — you give the line...

It’s hopeless. And it’s stupid. It’s suicidal. But love is a weapon they have no answer for. They know how you think, but they can’t know what you feel.

Time for the world to end.

We’re all dead…Some of us are just a little further along than others.

And it occurs to me that there’s no real difference between us, the living and the dead; it’s just a matter of tense: past-dead and future-dead

The nights did not come gently but seemed to slam down angrily upon the Earth.

The way we learn to write is the way we learn to talk: We listen to others and start mimicking speech, and that’s how we come to become speakers. Writers you admire, you admire the...

You know how sometimes you tell yourself that you have a choice, but really you don’t have a choice? Just because there are alternatives doesn’t mean they apply to you.

The answer is they didn’t. They aren’t here, Razor. They never were it’s just us. It’s always been just us.

You’re mortal, and only a mortal can afford to be romantic. When we conquered death, we murdered love.

When the power goes out, we jump up to…To what? It’s weird. We’re so used to electricity, when it’s gone, we don’t know what to do. So we jump up or squeal or start jabbering...

This place can’t be heaven, it doesn’t have the right vibe.

But we fall only that we might rise, Alfred. All of us fall; all of us, as you say, screw up. Falling is not important. It is how we get up after the fall that’s...

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.

I do not mean to mock or ridicule your life’s work, for in one way at least it mimics my own: We have dedicated our lives to the pursuit of phantoms. The difference is the...

We’re here, and then we’re gone, and it’s not about the time we’re here, but what we do with the time.

In the 4th Wave, you can’t trust that people are still people. But you can trust that your gun is still your gun.

The cold stars spun to the ancient rhythm, the august march of an everlasting symphony. They are old, the stars, and their memory is long.

The aliens of ‘The 5th Wave’ are not the aliens we’ve imagined. Not the aliens we’d like to attack us.

But I don’t panic. I don’t bolt like a frightened gazelle. I am more than the sum of my fear. It isn’t fear that will defeat them. Not fear or faith or hope or even...

Nothing makes us love something more than the loss of it.

Yes, my dear child, monsters are real. I happen to have one hanging in my basement.

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...

Even the most sensitive person can get used to even the most insensitive things.

We regarded each other across an expanse wider than the universe, within a space thinner than a razor’s edge.

One of the joys of a really good book is that you’re so into the world of the book, you forget what you’re looking at is words on a page.

Saben cómo pensáis, pero no saben cómo sentís.

But if I’m it, the last of my kind, the last page of human history, like hell I’m going to let the story end this way. I may be the last one, but I am...

I’ve decided to trust him, but like somebody once said, you can’t force yourself to trust. So you put all your doubts in a little box and bury it deep and then try to forget...

That’s a stupid question,’ said Malachi. ‘Because he didn’t warn him. He didn’t warn anyone.”No, it’s a philosophical question,’ Kearns corrected him. ‘Which makes it useless, not stupid.

Ever since I was young, 14 or 15, I wondered if you could write a book that combined the visceral thrill of watching a movie with the total immersion you feel when you’re inside a...

I am more than the sum of my fear.

In the nineteenth century, The Romantics viewed Nature as benign, a glowing reflection of God’s grace. Now we know better. Nature is brutal and, if it is feminine, she’s not the kind of woman you...

I dab at the blood with some gauze from the kit, fighting back hysterical giggles. I blame it on the unbearable stress, not on the fact that I’m wiping Evan Walker’s ass.

Then the door flew open and Mr. Faulks told us to head over to the gym. I thought that was really smart. Get all of us in one place so the aliens didn’t have to...

Não sei de tudo o que lhe aconteceu entre esse dia no ginásio e agora, mas sei que os Outros conseguiram separar os fracos dos fortes.Os fracos foram levados.É essa a falha no plano-mestre do...

And John Kearns whispered into my ear: “Do you see it now? *You* are the nest. *You* are the hatchling. *You* are the chrysalis. *You* are the progeny. *You* are the rot that falls from...

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...

Ya no hay nada que no tenga importancia.

You never know when the truth will come home. You can’t choose the time. The time chooses you.

If you don’t kill all of us all at once, those who remain will not be the weak.It’s the strong who remain, the bent but unbroken, like the iron rods that used to give this...

It’s been a long time since humans were prey animals. A hundred thousand years or so. But buried deep in our genes the memory remains: the awareness of the gazelle, the instinct of the antelope....

I always feel trepidation at the beginning of every project. I worry about so many things. Time to get it right, the skill to do it justice, the will to finish. I also worry about...

We are one, you and I. Brothers in hate, brothers in cunning, brothers in the spirit of vengeance.

The monstrous act by definition demands a monster.

Speaking of fruit, I’m down–I mean, he’s down–to his underwear.

Despair is a wholly selfish response to fortune’s slings and arrows.