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Dystopia Quotes

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Dystopia Quotes

“Life’s a no-rules cage fight.” That’s what Alex used to say—back when he still had fire in his eyes, when it sounded like a creed. Now Lena repeated the words to herself and they echoed hollow.”

“Husband . . . Father . . .” her mom mocked. “You think it’s the same man. But war slices people open. You married one man. The one crawling back from war? That’s a zombie. Same face, but inside—just rot.”

“This was what they’d been told all along in the army: “It’s us or them. War’s coming. No way around it.” And now the day had come, and in Alex’s eyes it felt not just inevitable but right.”

“І раптом мені стукнула в голову егоїстична, по-романтичному зухвала думка — про своєрідне відшкодування. Його ж таки треба вділяти соратникам, які жертвують своє найсокровенніше задля Держави. Відплачувати їм треба найвищим і найціннішим із усього, чого тільки можна запрагнути, — славою й почестями. Якщо слава й почесті служать достатньою втіхою покаліченому на війні солдатові, то чом би їм не послужити в такий самий спосіб людині, покаліченій внутрішньо?”

“من فقط یکی چیز می‌خواهم و آن چیز «او»ست. می‌خواهم که او هر لحظه، هر دقیقه کنارم باشد، فقط با من. تمام چیزهایی که همین حالا درباره‌ی وحدت نوشتم همه‌اش بی‌ربط است، چیزی نیست که باید باشد، دلم می‌خواهد تمامش را خط بزنم، پاره کنم و دور بریزم. چون می‌دانم (شاید کفر باشد، اما واقعیت است): جشن فقط با او جشن می‌شود، فقط زمانی که او کنارم و شانه‌به‌شانه‌ام باشد. بدون او، خورشید فردا چیزی نیست جز دایره‌ای حلبی و آسمان، حلبی‌ای که رنگ آبی به آن زده باشند و خودم هم، چیزی نیستم جز تکه‌ای حلبی!”

“In truth, Qasim was angry at his own people for surrendering so readily to their fate, and he hated them more than he hated the Sayyadin, even with all their tyranny. The people thought of nothing except satisfying their lusts, and they busied themselves with the search for food and drink, never once thinking about their lot in life and changing this terrible world they endured. That’s what made him so angry. Sometimes, he’d ask himself: What drove them to stay alive, breeding and swarming like swamp flies? What strange force made them continue this accursed existence? He never found an answer, but he went on asking as he fumed on the inside, every once in a while letting out angry gusts from his chest.”

“The fables spoke of a great war between the world’s children: conflicts over energy resources that led people to use their most advanced—and most deadly—weapons, until country after country collapsed and millions upon millions perished, leaving only a few struggling to survive in this harsh new environment. Malaz was the first city established in Egypt after civilization collapsed in the wake of the Great War. Its residents named it Malaz, or “Haven,” believing it to be the last refuge of humanity. Meanwhile, the ever-hopeful called it Madinat Al-Baath, or “City of Resurrection.”

“The clerics of Abydos say those machines were responsible for the apocalypse that befell mankind,” Sia said. “It was those machines that drove man against man. And so any trace of one of these accursed machines is strictly forbidden. That’s why all of these relics, every last one, were gathered up in a huge temple called the Graveyard of the Past. They’re guarded by the clerics and servants of the temple so that no man can ever get too close. They say that whoever does will be punished by the gods.”

“The Party seeks power entirely for its own sake. We are not interested in the good of others; we are interested solely in power. Not wealth or luxury or long life or happiness: only power, pure power. We know that no one ever seizes power with the intention of relinquishing it. Power is not a means, it is an end. The object of persecution is persecution. The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power. Now do you begin to understand me?”

“Their conversation ceased abruptly with the entry of an oddly-shaped man whose body resembled a certain vegetable. He was a thickset fellow with calloused and jaundiced skin and a patch of brown hair, a frizzy upheaval. We will call him Bell Pepper. Bell Pepper sidled up beside The Drippy Man and looked at the grilled cheese in his hand. The Drippy Man, a bit uncomfortable at the heaviness of the gaze, politely apologized and asked Bell Pepper if he would like one. “Why is one of your legs fatter than the other?” asked Bell Pepper. The Drippy Man realized Bell Pepper was not looking at his sandwich but towards the inconsistency of his leg sizes. “You always get your kicks pointing out defects?” retorted The Drippy Man. “Just curious. Never seen anything like it before.” “I was raised not to feel shame and hide my legs in baggy pants.” “So you flaunt your deformity by wearing short shorts?” “Like you flaunt your pockmarks by not wearing a mask?” Bell Pepper backed away, kicking wide the screen door, making an exit to a porch over hanging a dune of sand that curved into a jagged upward jab of rock. “He is quite sensitive,” commented The Dry Advisor. “Who is he?” “A fellow who once manipulated the money in your wallet but now curses the fellow who does.”

“I no longer feel any allegiance to these monsters called human beings, despite being one myself. I think Peeta was on to something about us destroying one another and letting some decent species take over, because there is something significantly wrong with a creature that sacrifices our children's lives to settle our differences.”

“Who did the council fight?" "It split in two and fought itself." "That's suicide!" "No, ordinary behaviour. The efficient half eats the less efficient half and grows stronger. War is just a violent way of doing what half the people do calmly in peacetime: using the other half for food, heat, machinery and sexual pleasure. Man is the pie that bakes and eats himself, and the recipe is separation." "I refuse to believe men kill each other just to make their enemies rich." "How can men recognize their real enemies when their family, schools and work teach them to struggle with each other and to believe law and decency come from the teachers?" "My son won't be taught that," said Lanark firmly. "You have a son?" "Not yet.”

“Eric, you need to look at the whole picture," the PM said. "You look at the jobless as a huge pile of scrap and you're looking for what can be recycled. That's good. That's your job. But what you don't realise is that this pile of scrap itself serves a purpose. I need my zeros, Eric. They put fear in people; fear of crime and terrorism. They are a stark reminder to the stakeholders that what they despise today, they may end up joining tomorrow. It keeps them obedient. Remember that!”