Isaac Marion Quotes

In order to endure death and horror one tends to kill ones own humanity, which is a much greater danger than not being able to bear it.

It is a horrible fact that we can read in the daily paper, without interrupting our breakfast, numerical reckonings of death and destruction that ought to break our hearts or scare us out of our wits.

I am profoundly fascinated by cruelty, fear, horror and death. My films show my preoccupation with violence, the pathology of violence.

Images of dead children are so excruciating that we are now well trained to short-circuit our emotional responses to move from horror to suspicion to indifference.

There are some things which are so horrific that some people feel they can't do anything about it: that the natural, understandable response is to tune it out.

That is, Jack thought, the way of life. The horror changes us, because we can never forget. Cursed with memory. It starts when we're old enough to know what death is and realize that sooner or later we'll lose everyone we love. We're never the same. But somehow we're all right. We go on.

They held each other and wept as the night closed its fist around their tiny shelter, and the world below them seethed with killers both living and dead.

Men who have not known the horror of death are not likely to be awed by it.

I shudder at the very thought of being born again into this world. Life to me . . . has been a monstrous, painful, agonizing affair, and the idea of repeating such an existence - even if better in a way - is horrifying to me. . . . I gratefully look forward to oblivion, but I must be sure of it.

The older I get, the more I can't stand violence and have a hard time with seeing people die in horrific ways. It gets harder and harder to watch and deal with that stuff.

It smelled pretty rank, but I was getting used to the smell of death, as much as anyone could get used to it.

Death holds no horrors. It is simply the ultimate horror of life.

I fear that a life of death has made me numb to both.

All that is left is to us is our being horrified at the loss of our sense of horror.

The fear of death in the one place was not as strong as another kind of fear, the fear of a world gone crazy, a place where anything could happen, where nothing could be trusted, where nothing was certain. A terrible place.

I have almost forgotten the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool’d to hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir as life were in’t: I have supt full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, cannot once start me.

Horror causes men to clench their fists, and in horror men join together.

Labels not only free us from the obligation to think creatively; they numb our sensibilities, our power to feel. During the Vietnam War, the phrase body count entered our vocabulary. It is an ambiguous phrase, inorganic, even faintly sporty. It distanced us from the painful reality of corpses, of dead, mutilated people.

Her last conscious thought was disgust at life; her senses had lied to her. The world was not made of energy and delight but of foulness, betrayal, and lassitude. Living was hateful, and death was no better, and from end to end of the universe this was the first and last and only truth.

I just never really thought there could be something worse than death.

trust me, Anita, if you get dead, especially if he blames himself in any way, he will be a force of destruction looking for a place to be aimed. And he's blamed himself for introducing you to Olaf here from the get-go. If Olaf did to you what he's done to some of his other victims, Edward would drown the world in blood to erase those images.

Monsters,' her dad said, a tear tracing his cheek. 'I live in a world of monsters.

Horror films do not prepare us for the hours lost in searching after one clear thought.

Stick a shovel into the ground almost anywhere and some horrible thing or other will come to light. Good for trade, we thrive on bones; without them there'd be no stories.

One gets so used to one's own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people.