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Quote by Mira Grant

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Final Girls

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Author

Mira Grant
Mira Grant

Mira Grant is an American author known for her works in science fiction and horror. Her novels often blend political satire with elements of science fiction, earning her a dedicated fan base. more

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“She stopped walking between two doors. They were labeled, in quixotic fashion, “Squids” and “Mollusks.” Shaun raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he said. “Which one am I?” “All gender is a construct and binary gender doubly so, but you have a hard shell and you’re hard to kill, so you’re probably a mollusk,” said Foxy blithely.”

“The big question of the hour is prett obvious: it's the question we've been asking every scientist from Galileo to Oppenheimer, from Frankenstein to Moreau. Do I feel like we at SymboGen are trying to play God? Well, there's a reason that two of the scientists I just named don't really exist. I think that mankind is constantly trying to play God: I would argue that playing God is exactly what God, if He exists, would want us to do. He didn't create thinking creatures with the intent that we would never think. That would be silly. He didn't create creatures that were capable of manipulating and remaking our environment with the intent that we would sit idle and never create anything. That would be a waste. If God exists― and I am reserving my final opinion on the matter until I die and meet Him― then He is a scientist, an by creating man, he was playing at being me for a little while. So I can't imagine that He would mind if I wanted to try putting the shoe on the other foot, can you?”

“All time is limited. All time is passing. As humanity builds straight walls on bending, bowing cliffs and along the lines of rolling hills, that time pases even faster, offended until it flees into the future, where straight lines sage, where angles bend and break and fall apart, where the softness, freed from its geometrical bindings, can finally run free. This, then, is the punishmen for those harsh lines, for those unforgiving angles: that humanity's time should run fast and hot and short (...)”

“But my mind didn't feel entirely like my own anymore. If I was being honest, it hadn't since the first time I saw the sea, the great, dark, slate-colored sea. I could still feel it calling to me, as constant as the tides, my heart beating in time with the waves that smashed themselves against the shore, sending tendrils lacing deeper and deeper into Port Mercy, bringing it closer, inch by inch, to its inevitable watery grave.”