post-apocalyptic

Devoid of any real liberty or justice, America and her children had fallen prey to what amounted to little more than a thinly veiled dictatorship. She now represented not the proud citadel of freedom, but the failed experiment of democracy.

The world is a goddamned evil place, the strong prey on the weak, the rich on the poor; I__e given up hope that there is a God that will save us all. How am I supposed to believe that there__ a heaven and a hell when all I see now is hell.

I brought Sammy inside and put him to bed. Said his prayer with him. ___ow I lay me down to sleep__ To me, just random noise. Gibberish. I wasn__ sure exactly what it was, but I felt that, when it came to God, there was a broken promise in there somewhere.

Is this how humanity waves good-bye?Hell no.

Quote from __UTURE GONE_: "_I wonder what actually this hospital is, why I am in it and who I am. I have no time to find out. I die, with my arms stretched towards the spotlights.Then whiteness.My body is still there somewhere_Buried in the extremely bright lights of empty hope".

With out freedom nothing has value, Free agency is the only true key to happiness.

I write pre-apocalyptic fiction. In other words, I__ not interested in a future where everything is blown to hell, I__ rather write something that helps to prevent it from happening.

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.

They want to control humankind through what they call selective breeding. The Nazis started it, but now the nwo are continuing it. See, the only way to control population is to first get it back down to manageable size. They're culling the herd, same way the game commission does when deer population gets out of control. That's why we've got diseases like cancer and aids. You telling me that we can put a little goddamn skateboard-looking robot on Mars and have it send pictures back, but we can't find a cure for cancer? There's a cure. You can bet on that, boys. There's a goddamn cure. They just won't release it because cancer helps cut down the population.

There__ no god, it__ the elements that control this world and everything on it.

I sent a silent prayer up to the Phoenix to keep her safe a little longer, because I would tear the shifters limb for limb until I got my baby sister back.

Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, The lady of situations.Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel, And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card, Which is blank, is something he carries on his back, Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.

IT IS SAID that time is unrelated to everything else. It goes on and on, unnoticing of our actions, our falls, our triumphs. Who__ to care then, if time does not remember us? It flies by, fleeting, inattentive and disinterested in any occupants of this earth. What are we, then, if time thinks so little of everyone it passes? Time is truly apathetic to the many to whom a little empathy would mean so much.~April~ Disarming Reign of Blood

Then why are you still here?_ I ask. I stand up and her gun follows me. I welcome its bullets just to see if I could survive.__asochism.___ don__ know what that means.___t means I like my own pain.___hat doesn__ make sense._____ human. You think we ever make sense?

When the dust settles and we look back,will we be okay with what we see?" End Times Alaska by Craig Martelle

Libraries, museums, universities, everything we designed and built over six thousand years. Cities are more than the sum of their infrastructure. They transcend brick and mortar, concrete and steel. They're the vessels into which human knowledge is poured.

Twenty years earlier, in a life [Kirsten] mostly couldn__ remember, she had had a small nonspeaking role in a short-lived Toronto production of King Lear. Now she walked in sandals whose soles had been cut from an automobile tire, three knives in her belt.

I am like the water that runs over me, immune to permanence, recycling endlessly. I am water; I am life. The form may change, but the substance stays the same. Strike me down and I will rise again. Vincit qui patitur.