Dystopian Quotes & Sayings
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Top Dystopian Quotes
Our choices in these next few moments could only change how we suffered.
Not if.
From everything I could see, that was already decided. — Lola Dodge
What's your name?" I ask again.
"Chris," he says. "Chris Young."
I exhale dramatically, blowing my bangs out of my eyes.
"I can take you," I reply. "But if you try anything, I'll shoot you right between the eyes. Seriously."
He almost smiles.
"Yes, ma'am. — Summer Lane
That's the thing I'm learning about being thrown out on yer own. Nobody does nothing for you. If you don't change it, it don't get changed. — Patrick Ness
I know these are going to sound like school reading-list suggestions, but if you like dystopian fiction, you should check out some of the originals: 'Anthem,' by Ayn Rand; '1984,' by George Orwell; or 'Brave New World,' by Aldous Huxley. — Sara Shepard
The greywastes was a basin overflowing with insanity, the very earth underneath me was only surviving because it was too mad to know it had died — Quil Carter
I laughed under my breath, and it sounded bitter. "Listen to me. What am I talking about, worth it? Is any experience or bit of beauty worth the cost of my life? I know nothing but safety and self-preservation at all costs."
"And yet," he said softly, "you're risking everything to help me. — Kate Avery Ellison
We are brilliant shades of light, we can not be contained"
-Boys of the Fatherless- — David C. Riggins
Why you?"
"I don't know, ask him."
"I'm asking you, so, why don't you just come out and say it?"
Rafe released the door, letting it close. "What are we talking about?"
I dug my nails into my palms, letting the pain brace me for his answer. "Is he your father?"
Rafe's smile returned. "Nope. I'm not your brother, Lane. I know that's got to be a disappointment." He paused, considering it. "Or maybe not. Now you can throw yourself at me. Just not when Mack's around okay? He's not my dad, but he is the guy who busted me out of an orphan camp when I was ten. — Kat Falls
According to population expert Dr. Paul Ehrlich, we should currently be experiencing a dystopian dreamscape where "survivors envy the dead," which seems true only when I look at Twitter. Yet — Chuck Klosterman
A loud peel of laughter travels up my throat. Something out of the ordinary has finally happened, and it sends a spark of electricity directly to the dull lump in my chest. — Siobhan Davis
When you stop being owned by your emotions you'll stop feeling vulnerable to people. ~ Remiel — Aria J. Wolfe
He and Lilly, they knew what Paradise looked like. When nighttime came and bled out its cold darkness into their laps, they would huddle together and paint the air with stories of Paradise. — Hannah Heath
'Divergent' was my utopian world. I mean, that wasn't the plan. I never even set out to write dystopian fiction, that's just what I had when I was finished. At the beginning, I was just writing about a place I found interesting and a character with a compelling story, and as I began to build the world, I realized that it was my utopia. — Veronica Roth
If you survive, you've got to live with the guilt, and that's more difficult than looking someone in the eye and pulling the trigger. Trust me. I've done both. — Sara Grant
They were here from the beginning.
They have reshaped our lives, run us from our homes.
They were always here. — Nadege Richards
If you listen closely you will hear the spirits sigh
a lesson lost on humans; an enchanting lullaby:
Mercy lies in nature's hands and bound to it we grow.
Of the earth we came to be and of the earth we'll go. — Nicoline Evans
I never, as a reader, have been particularly interested in dystopian literature or science fiction or, in fact, fantasy. — Lois Lowry
But really, that is kind of silly,' Abigail tried to explain. 'I mean, a book is much less personal than a programmed screen that can respond to you according to your needs, and concentrate on what's hard for you, and go fast on what's easy. A book stays the same no matter *who's* reading it. And anyway, I don't see how anyone could read a whole long book, it must be so boring!'
'But...but it wasn't,' Peter said faintly. 'I...almost forgot I was reading it. The...the whole story was going on in my head.'
'I still don't understand,' said Oliver. 'I mean, watching a real-life hologram right before your eyes is better than anything you could *imagine.* — William Sleator
It seems no matter how long we live, we never seem to know what we're meant to be doing. — Jacinta Maree
The Devil's minions worked his treacherous plot through the hearts of men, possessing them, ruling them. These hounds of hell ran wild these days through their human hosts, working greater and greater abominations. — Eric J. Martindale
Sometimes it takes losing everything to see the truth in nothing, except love, honor, and death. — N.J. Paige
Fear walks through the City, fear without name, without shape. All men feel it and none dare to speak. — Ayn Rand
We all end up dying in the end. It's just a question of how and when. — Michael Monroe
If you put enough sheep together you have a herd- a force to be reckoned with. — Maria V. Snyder
Maybe the Society was right all along. From the very beginning, that's what they called her. A time bomb.
Tick, tick, tick. — Laura Kreitzer
I'm wondering how long I have to deal with this bullshit before I can brief my troops. Oh, and I gotta feed my goldfish. Let's get this straight, Blondie - "
"Blondie?"
"That's an insult, not a pet name. — Rie Warren
A shame. As promising as a sky full'a rainbows but as useful as a bag'a dirt. — Quoleena Sbrocca
A glacial chill rushes through Gage. He whips around just in time to see arms clutch Summer around the middle and drag her into the dark. Panic seizes him, and he takes off after her, regardless of the chaos brewing behind him. Her cry of surprise echoes all around them, drilling into his bones. — Laura Kreitzer
She feels him scoot closer, the heat of him radiating off his chest and absorbing into her skin. His legs straddle her from behind, and he places delicate kisses along her shoulder, her back, the very center of her spine. Each time is like an electric current surging through her, soul stirring and lovely. — Laura Kreitzer
Let them come. We've got helicopters, tanks, jets, and big guns. We've got armies of robots. What do they have but their stench and the squalor they live in? — Michael Monroe
That's one of our speculations, by the way. That the prior version of history that this one overwrote was horrible. Complete geopolitical mayhem; half of New York City is underwater. The United States is headed toward civil war, or ruled by an artificial-intelligence construct, or some such other thing. Real end-of-days stuff. That the instances of ourselves who existed in that history figured out what we have: that the invention of the causality violation device was the cause. That in that prior version of history, Rebecca did not die in a car accident. That she went back to the past on a mission, as a volunteer, well aware of her sacrifice. — Dexter Palmer
Haven't already been drawn into her dark and addictive dystopian series, Ann Aguirre is the author of the best-selling Enclave trilogy. Bonus
book three, Horde , came out late last year, so you can read them without the interminable wait in between. In this — Anonymous
As he plods behind Cameron and Summer, he can't help but stare at Summer's exposed, glistening skin. His thoughts aren't depraved or even mildly in the splasher. In fact, he focuses on the marks of cruelty crisscrossing her back, stomach, and shoulders. He trudges along, drenched, feet swollen, constantly searching for even a hint of a breeze, all while being forced to stare at the alarming network of burns traversing Summer's delicate skin. This latticework of hate reveals a brutal truth - one he can scarcely comprehend. Yes, he's glimpsed and felt her scars before, but this is the first time he's really, truly seen the severity and extent of her life as a slave. With each step, he must digest the monstrosities of her past, leaving him utterly devastated. — Laura Kreitzer
He didn't save me, though. He allowed me the freedom to save myself, which is the very best type of rescue. — Amy Engel
I think of dystopian as 'Mad Max,' as 'Book of Eli,' as the world is ending. — Tyra Banks
Slowly, he lifts the flashlight. Her shorts are torn and frayed, her shirt ripped from chest to naval, exposing her black bra and dirty stomach. And then he raises the light so it reflects off her face, off the crimson tears streaming from the girl's eyes. Her boney hands fly up to protect her face, and her head tilts sharply as she hisses. — Laura Kreitzer
Shitting fucking bastard! Fuck off you massive cockwank!' - Misty Meanor, during a particularly stressful encounter. — Matthew Sylvester
I'm thinking ahead, imagining what our lives together would be like once we're free from this hell and allowed to live and let go. You know? Really let go of our pain and finally enjoy each other ... you and me. — Leslie Lee Sanders
In the afternoon, they stopped to eat on a rocky outcrop. Perry brushed a kiss on her cheek while she was chewing, and she learned that it was the loveliest thing to be kissed for no reason, even while chewing food. It brightened the woods, and the never sky, and everything. — Veronica Rossi
Darian murdered them in cold blood. That's a crime punishable with life in the Terrorscape, where you experience the worst nightmares imaginable. — Shannon Duffy
May your song guide you home. — Sophia Elaine Hanson
Centrally planned economies are upended by out of control population. Their escape valve is eugenics. — A.E. Samaan
After all this time, I know exactly where I belong. Here. With Edmond. And that's how I live now. — Meg Rosoff
Logan owns my heart, and he always will. Whether he is aware or not. Whether he wants it or not. That much I know with absolute conviction. — Siobhan Davis
Buddy, you have no idea what I am capable of. Now, put the rifle down on the ground. Step back and walk away. Then leave this place and do not ever come back. If you do that, I will let you live. — James J. Caterino
He holds her for an eternity. Time cascades into the void of the past. She inhales his scent. Full of man and strength and yearning. And she wonders why she ever doubted their relationship. Why she let Julian's soothing touch coax her into loving him too. Gage is everything. Gage is hers. — Laura Kreitzer
I'm sorry, he says. No two words were ever truer.
Still, she says nothing. Once a shield, now her taciturnity is brandished like a blade, carving away his sanity. She's the flaw in the paragon of life - the reason angels choose to dive to their downfalls in fiery comets of stardust. — Laura Kreitzer
There is no good or evil here, it all depends on what side you're standing. Nor is it about wrong or right, it's about surviving." Triven — Jennifer Wilson
And what about the most merciful Christian God, slowly roasting in the fires of hell all those who would not submit? Was He not an executioner? And was the number of those burned by the Christians on bonfires less than the number of burned Christians? Yet - you understand - this God was glorified for ages as the God of love. Absurd? No, on the contrary: it is testimony to the ineradicable wisdom of man, inscribed in blood. Even at that time - wild, shaggy - he understood: true, algebraic love of humanity is inevitably inhuman; and the inevitable mark of truth is - its cruelty. Just as the inevitable mark of fire is that it burns. Show me fire that does not burn. Well - argue with me, prove the contrary! — Yevgeny Zamyatin
A giant grin, accompanied by a slight chuckle, had been the grand finale to any of his most successful jokes, while the less impressive resulted in a raise of both his brows, which he followed with a semi-satisfied smirk. The least entertaining attempt at humor would get a shrug and a short grimace that reflected he too understood he'd just bombed. Olivia was acquainted with them all now, considering all the time they'd spent together, the most she'd spent with any other individual inside the vault. Olivia had become accustomed to his infectious humor, though it hadn't always been so. Especially, when they'd first met. — Jettie Necole
It's hard to know which is more dystopian: the idea that your every move is being studied by occasionally malign figures of anonymous government authority, or that everything you've done in the public sphere has for years now been secretly recorded for no particular reason, by people who would rather be doing almost anything else, in an apotheosis of archival bureaucracy that you yourself pay for through tax. I — Geoff Manaugh
Over the past couple of months, Chantel had become a pro at leading book discussions and inventing fun games and trivia questions that all related to that particular month's book selection. Although, last month's theme, dystopian and the book selection "Matched" by Allie Condie, had the retirement home director a little concerned when everyone wanted to stop taking their medications. Not... a good... thing! — JoJo Sutis
For a moment nothing happens. The figure stands still and I stand cold and alive and-
He starts to run. I make my way down the rocks, slipping, sliding, trying to get to the plain. I wish, I think, my feet clumsy, moving too fast, not fast enough, I wish i could run, I wish I'd written a whole poem, I wish I kept the compass-
And then I reach the plain and wish for nothing but what I have. Ky. Running toward me. I have never seen him run like this, fast, free, strong, wild. He looks so beautiful, his body moves so right. He stops just close enough for me to see the blue of his eyes and forget the red on my hands and the green I wish I wore. "You're here," he says, breathing hard and hungry. sweat and dirt cover his face, and he looks at me as though I'm the only thing he ever needed to see. I open my mouth to say yes. But I only have time to breathe in before he closes the last of the distance. All I know is the kiss. — Ally Condie
People are writing post-apocalyptic fiction like there's no tomorrow! — Cassandra Page
... and do you know what?"
"What?"
"People don't talk about anything."
"Oh, they must!"
"No, not anything. They name a lot of cars or clothes or swimming pools mostly and say how swell! But they all say the same things and nobody says anything different from anyone else. And most of the time in the caves they have the joke boxes on and the same jokes most of the time, or the musical wall lit and all the colored patterns running up and down, but it's only color and all abstract. And at the museums, have you ever been? All abstract. That's all there is now. My uncle says it was different once. A long time back sometimes pictures said things or even showed people. — Ray Bradbury
... she wore a masterpiece smile with smudges of paint and graphite across her cheek, and her eyes were a Jackson Pollock painting. — Ellie Lieberman
Well one tiny poisonous spider can kill a very large man if it bites him in the right place. — Michael Monroe
Frown deepening, Jared bounces a hand off the chair arm. 'You know you're different, Princess. And it's not just because you're some fancy, spoiled rich girl. Hell, you don't smell like anyone else. Money can't buy that smell.' I assume he wasn't talking about my expensive perfume, which money did in fact buy. — L.E. Sterling
I want to see you naked. I want to touch you. I want you to touch me. I just...want. — Amy Engel
Sometimes at night I would look out and up at the glow rising up around me through the plastic and it would just make me shudder. It reminded me of larvae. We were like pale grubs in our eggs. When I got the horrors like that, I requested a little yellow pill from the dial-a-doc and flopped down into the fuzz along with everyone else. — Stevie O'Connor
That what?" "That I knew i misjudged you. That you love him. I'm not saying In what way. Maybe you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him," he says gently. — Suzanne Collins
What we are probably given is a mixture of truth and untruth. It's anybody's guess as to which part is which and how much there is of each. — Ira Levin
Today was the day to win again, Javlei held his axe in hand he had killed many people with it he didn't care that he had blood on his hands. He had won the STEDFARST races every year so far by being ruthless butchering other racers as he went. — Charon Lloyd-Roberts
I wondered for a second why I cared so much, but I knew I did. I wanted to be more like the Upper-Cs. Not snobby or mean, but just a bit more. It was hard to explain, I just liked the thought of being dolled up and having a few nice things. — Y.A. Marks
What I find interesting and heartening, though, is that there does seem to be a shift in the subject matter being written about by women that is doing well in the culture. We're seeing more women writing dystopian fiction, more women writing novels set post-apocalyptic settings, subjects and themes that used to be dominated by men. — Laurie Foos
But just being whatever it is that I am . . . I don't think that makes me a monster. Believe me, I know. ere are plenty of real monsters walking around out there in the world. ey look respectable, but can't hide who they are from me. Real monsters hurt people for pleasure, or for no reason at all - they're just not as well armed as I am. — Michael Selden
I think people respond to dystopian stories because they're ways of acting out anxieties that we have and fears that we have about the future. So much media's coming at you over the Internet, your brain gets overloaded. You don't know what to do with it. And one thing you can do with it is read a story. — Suzanne Collins
Let your life be a song. Let music be the background of whatever human things you will do for this blazing, spinning planet, and never let go of the good, never let go of the kindness. — Logan Keys
they didn't want people talking.
Thinking was fine; they would bury you with your thoughts.
But no collaboration, no groups coordinating together, no change of ideas. — Hugh Howey
Refusing to listen to him any longer, Julian backs up. "Whenever you realize working together is in Summer's best interest, come find me, Boy Scout. Until then, I'll just pretend you don't exist." Then he walks away.
Gage glares at Julian's retreating form. His hand scrapes through his hair as he fumes. A guttural roar of rage crawls up his throat, and he kicks the sand.
Damn him and his stupid logic. He's right. And Gage knows he's right. But that doesn't mean he has to like it. — Laura Kreitzer
IT IS SAID that time is unrelated to everything else. It goes on and on, unnoticing of our actions, our falls, our triumphs. Who's 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 — Alexia Purdy
Time is a thief. A killer. Time is killing him. — Laura Kreitzer
Shelley Jackson's 'Half Life' is the textual equivalent of an installation, a multivocal, polymorphous, dialogic, dystopian satire wrapped around a murder mystery wrapped around a bildungsroman. — Stacey D'Erasmo
Two little dark figures, looking up. Are they looking at me? Is is him? This far away there's only one way to know. I point to the sky. — Ally Condie
Posterity will never hear of you. You will be lifted clean out from the stream of history. We shall turn you into gas and pour you into the stratosphere. Nothing will remain of you; not a name in a register, not a memory in a living brain. You will be annihilated in the past as well as in the future. You will never have existed. — George Orwell
So fragile - the human body. Just one prick and it will draw blood. Just one bullet and the bleeding will never stop. — Tiana Dalichov
The copyright industry has managed to kill civil liberties for their own children, ushering in a dystopian surveillance machine, merely to avoid taking responsibility for their own business failures. I lack words to quantify my contempt for these utter parasites. — Rick Falkvinge
Hear, hear.' Sister Martha hoisted her water glass. 'Let the rigid stick of self-righteousness be dislodged from her very uptight ass.'
Father Ramon coughed.
'A-fucking-men,' Loup supplied helpfully. — Jacqueline Carey
Would we be so enamored with dystopian fiction if we lived in a culture where violent death was a major concern? It wouldn't be escapism. — Maggie Stiefvater
I don't buy into the dystopian scenarios of self-aware robots enslaving mankind, but you don't have to be a sci-fi conspiracy theorist to acknowledge that plenty of good, well-paying jobs are being taken over by machines. — Marco Rubio
You're an assignment, not an assignation. Soon as I get your pretty boy ass through the Wilderness and deliver you to the Outpost, you're no more than a stain to spit-shine off my boots. — Rie Warren
Thanks, for saving me."
"I didn't have a choice," he said softly.
"Everyone has a choice."
"Then mine was easy."
"Easy?"
He chuckled. "Olivia, my choice will always be simple when it comes to you... — Jettie Necole
Ignoring the pain is more desirable than confronting it. And that's survival one-oh-one. — Siobhan Davis
Interviewer: You said I'm the first psychoanalyst you've met who had a sense of humor. Meaning you've met others who didn't?
Ezra: Proper little Sherlock over here, huh. — Amie Kaufman
Before Sept. 11, the idea that Americans would voluntarily agree to live their lives under the gaze of a network of biometric surveillance cameras, peering at them in government buildings, shopping malls, subways and stadiums, would have seemed unthinkable, a dystopian fantasy of a society that had surrendered privacy and anonymity. — Jeffrey Rosen
I wish I was more experienced with boys, so that I could understand his intentions more clearly. I grimace inwardly when I think of much of an expert I'll be in a few months time. — Siobhan Davis
Avery slides on his glasses and opens his eyes again. "Dammit!" he says again with more feeling. "Why does stuff like this keep happening?"
"You say that as if it's a bad thing," Rob says, smirking. — Laura Kreitzer
Sure, you can break a man. Bend his will, even, but be careful with the ones that break easily. Those are the ones you have to keep a close eye on. Those are the ones that play possum and hide in the shadows. Just waiting for their time to strike! That's when you're most vulnerable. When you're surrounded by friends. — Joe Reyes
Don't know when my life came to visualising intense pain and tragedy to putting it down on paper, to putting across a message of love in times of abject hate. Thank you everybody and the conspiracy of the stars for showing me this day. To many, many more books, inshallah, and to many more launches. — Simran Keshwani
You should've told me," she repeats. "Because here's a news flash: You might've wanted to shelter me, but there's nowhere you can hide me that'll keep me safe from what's inside my head. — Laura Kreitzer
I fell silent after that. I didn't want to talk about such things anymore, at least today. My chest already hurt and I was trying to keep my mind calm. I didn't want to think of a future so bleak and dark. I had plans for my future and they didn't involve the world ending or society collapsing. — J.M. Northup
Dystopian Cybernetic Environment in Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five — Ruzbeh Babaee
The kiss has started something bigger between us, and the lies I'm telling Stirling will only get worse from here on in. — K.C. Finn
Inside the room there sat a rocker, which she sat on, and which had rocked her while she sipped the beer, because in spite of herself she had become so giddy to have so quickly relieved her heart that she allowed herself to lean backwards while in the rocker, which had made it possible for the rocker to rock her, although it was not her intention to be so rocked. Also there stood an ironing board with a still hot iron on it that was burning a yellow shift, and there was, among several items that were not as noticeable to the woman, and yet were noticeable enough to at least bear mention, a fake man.
"I hope you don't mind me asking," said the woman who lived in the room, but then while in her chair she nodded off. — Justin Dobbs
It was one of those dreams from which she woke up depressed about her reality, filled with a longing that pulled at her insides, wishing the dream could have lasted forever, or at least much longer than it had. — Michael Monroe