182 Quotes About Post-apocalyptic

I’m thinking ahead, imagining what our lives together would be like once we’re free from this hell and allowed to live and let go. You know? Really let go of our pain and finally enjoy each other … you and me.

It was as if some great ocean of destruction had rolled its unyielding tide through the city and then, upon its terrible recession, left behind only a shoreline of concrete sand and crushed humanity.

Robert Neville looked out over the new people of the earth. He knew he did not belong to them; he knew that, like the vampires, he was anathema and black terror to be destroyed. And, abruptly, the concept came, amusing to him even in his pain. ... Full circle. A new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever. I am legend.

Because there wasn’t anything else to do, he settled at the kitchen tablewith a bottle of mead and nearly emptied it. The anesthetic effect he hoped for hadn’t happened, though. At least not yet.

He extends his hand, cupping it in a loose fist to conceal whatever is in it. He swings it toward my arm, and before the sensation of a prick registers in my brain, he returns his hand to his side. My body feels weak. Light. Arms grab me around my waist and drag me away from the general. My lids flutter, my ears ring, but I can still hear the words from his muffled voice. “Go to sleep kid. Hopefully when you wake up, you’ll get I’m only doing this ’cause we’re so desperate.

My chest and throat burn from my wheezing breath booming in my ears. But my hands—they’re ice cold. My shoulders heave as my fingers dig into my palms. They’re desperate for Max’s signal, but it doesn’t come.My breath grows louder and high pitched as I scan the green darkness for Fuges. What I see instead makes me almost choke on the rotten air. It’s not the Fuges. It’s soldiers. Seven of them lower their weapons, obviously as confused as we are.

Master Red is who I am. You best be gettin’ used to that. Otherwise, when the time come to fly outta this hell, I just might shove you off the side of yo big bird friend and laugh when you hit the ground.

It is the way of evolution,” Elias says, his words getting lost in the roar of the wind. “Two species of human cannot coexist. To believe so is to be naïve.

The coldness coats my senses. I envision it turning into a stone wall as thick as the depths of their lies. I picture it towering before me, barring the portion of my brain which controls emotions. I conjure a small box and plant it in front of the stone wall of my mind. I open it and imagine three words fluttering into it like tufts of cotton on a gentle breeze. As my eyes burrow into the depths of her own, I seal the box and send it floating to a place where her subconscious will find it.