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I Am Legend

Book by Richard Matheson · 24 quotes · Vampire, Death, Ifs

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I Am Legend Quotes

“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.”

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“It was a high ceilinged room with tall, large-panes windows. Apart from the doorway was the desk where book had been checked out in days when books were still being checked out. He stood there for a moment looking around the silent room, shaking his head slowly. All these books, he thought, the residue of a planet's intellect, the scrapings of futile minds, the leftovers, the potpourri of artifacts that had no power to save men from perishing.”

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“There seemed no answer. He wasn't resigned to anything, he hadn't accepted or adjusted to the life he'd been forced into. Yet here he was, eight months after the plague's last victim, nine since he's spoken to another human being, ten since Virginia had died. Here he was with no future and a virtually hopeless present. Still plodding on. Instinct? Or was he just stupid? Too unimaginative to destroy himself? Why hadn't he done it in the beginning when he was in the very depths? What had impelled him to enclose the house, install a freezer, a generator, an electric stove, a water tank, build a hothouse, a workbench, burn down the houses on each side of his, collect records and books and mountains of canned supplies, even - it was fantastic when you thought about it - even put a fancy mural on the wall? Was the life force something more than words, a tangible, mind-controlling potency? Was nature somehow, in him, maintaining its spark against its own encroachments? He closed his eyes. Why think, why reason? There was no answer. His continuance was an accident and an attendant bovinity. He was just too dumb to end it all, and that was about the size of it.”

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“Last lines: 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. A coughing chuckle filled his throat. He turned and leaned against the wall while he swallowed the pills. Full circle, he thought while the final lethargy crept into his limbs. Full circle. A new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever. I am legend.”

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“Una vez, en la noche medieval, el vampiro había sido muy poderoso, y enormemente temido. Se lo había considerado anatema, y todavía lo era. La sociedad lo perseguía sin descanso. ¿Pero son sus necesidades más sorprendentes que las necesidades de otros animales y hombres? Realmente, mira en tu alma, ¿es el vampiro tan malo? Sólo bebe sangre. ¿Porqué entonces ese juicio malévolo, esa condenación insensat? ¿Porqué el vampiro no podía elegir su vivienda? ¿Porqué debía ocultarse? ¿Porqué exterminarlos? Ah, ya ves, has convertido al desamparado inocente en un animal perseguido. El vampiro carece de medios de subsistencia, no puede educarse. Se le niega el derecho al voto. No es raro que deba arrastrar una existencia noctura y pedatoria. Neville dejó escapar un gruñido. Claro, claro, pero no permitiría que mi hermana se casase con uno.”

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“Poi un giorno il cane non si presentò. Neville entrò in agitazione. Si era talmente abituato a quelle visite da trasformarle nel centro della sua routine quotidiana, che aveva riorganizzato intorno ai pasti dell'animale, tralasciando le indagini, accantonando tutto il resto, preso com'era dal desiderio di averlo in casa. Passò il pomeriggio a setacciare il vicinato con i nervi a fior di pelle, chiamandolo a squarciagola. Ma tutte le ricerche furono vane. Rientrò e consumò un pasto insipido. Il cane non si presentò per la cena e neanche per la colazione il mattino dopo. Neville riprese le ricerche, meno speranzoso. L'hanno catturato, quelle parole gli ossessionavano la mente, gli sporchi bastardi l'hanno catturato. Ma non riusciva a crederci fino in fondo. Si rifiutava di rassegnarsi all'idea. Il pomeriggio del terzo giorno si trovava nel garage quando all'esterno gli arrivò il tintinnio della ciotola di metallo. Trattenendo il fiato uscì alla luce del giorno. «Sei tornato!» gridò. Il cane scartò nervosamente allontanandosi dal piatto, con la bocca gocciolante d'acqua. Il cuore di Neville ebbe un sobbalzo. L'animale aveva gli occhi vitrei e ansimava con la lingua scura penzoloni. «No» disse, con voce rotta. «Oh, no.»”

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