dystopian-fiction

If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides of a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget that their is such a thing as war. If the government if inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it.

My chest tightens to the point I fear my heart will suffocate from the pressure of it. Society's standards are the total opposite from how I was raised. The boy who I thought to be so strikingly handsome has less than a year of his life to live, my new friend only a few more months beyond that. Yet they are living these uneventful lives in which they don't think there is a reason for anything. Will I ever see my mother again, or is this how I will be forced to live the rest of my life, as well?

It feels so good to find out I mean everything to the person who means everything to me.

And it is strange that absence can feel like presence.

Writing is emotional...it is baring your soul to the world and waiting for someone to acknowledge and love it, or shun and hate it, or worse be indifferent about it.

Erik wondered if they saw the irony of such a tiny complex expecting to find the cure from the very lives they minimized in comparison to the whole. If such small, little lives mattered not, how could they believe anything they did would matter?

I__ thinking ahead, imagining what our lives together would be like once we__e 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.

Prince Maxon surveyed the room and found me. Our eye met for a moment, and he smiled.

Ideas combined with courage can change the world.

But he couldn__ risk taking the helmet off. It was the only thing saving him from the firing squad. He was no longer able to keep his thoughts silent. No longer able to squash his misgivings about what he had done.

The law isn't merciful.

Nature is cheaper than therapy.

The lucky ones died in the blasts. They were spared the fate of starvation, cannibalism, rape and slaughter. Where a man could be killed over half-eaten can of corn.

I have been speaking to you all of your life. In the gurgle of a tide pool, I breathed myself into you. I drew you down from the trees and I lifted you onto your feet. I freed your hands to become your tools so that you would cradle me in my old age, but you have turned on me. My strongest warrior for life, you have been transformed into an insatiable messenger of death. Only a few of my children are still listening when I howl to them, crying in the night, sending the oceans in great surges to cleanse my land -- to cleanse, and to warn you who no longer listen. I WILL BE HEARD.

Everybody stood dead still. It was as if now that we were about to get out of the Tower for the first time since the flood, we were scared, like we were crossing some line that we wouldn__ be able to uncross.--Greenleigh

It__ degrading being routinely subjected to a battery of medical tests to ensure I continue to deserve a place in this new world.

It had been along time since I breached the surface of the world above. My parents wouldn__ allow it. So as far as I knew, the survivors that remained were savages. I__ seen a few things before our colony was built and most of the inhabitants left ran wildly through the bare, desert terrain, filth covering them from head to toe, bones protruding their leathery skin, and foam dripping from their mouths in search of one thing_Nourishment.

They were like her rocks. Imperfect and surprising and maybe better in the long run than certainties. Chances, she thought, were life