When you expect the world to end at any moment, you know there is no need to hurry. You take your time, you do your work well.

A sullied green “S” stood out on a graying backdrop that made for a road marker up there. We called it the wasteland.

Things are different here. There will be rules and regulations that you are not used to. You will have to follow them. All of them.

She’d been caught up in that image, that flash, man’s nuclear stamp, and had not really understood what happened after.

One could speculate that lichens would be among the last inhabitants to succumb on a dying earth at some distant point in the future.

It's over.""I am not the only lord in Hell. Others will rise to take my place. The Morningstar will crave revenge.""Let them come.

I want you here. I don't care if it's a hundred degrees and every blade of grass dies. Without you, none of that matters to me.

The nurse snorted, and said. “All men are pigs.” “Not all men.” Jango said. “Some of the men are zombies.

People could say a lot of negative things about the apocalypse, but there was no arguing the air quality in Los Angeles had really improved.

No amount of expertly choreographed PR could prevail, in the end, against Armageddon. It strolled over the barricades and took its pleasure.

We'd stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first. You'd think that would make us feel brave and invincible. It didn't.

It was the hubris of each generation to think this anew, to think that their time was special, that all things would come to an end with them.

The world may be about to end, but if it's going to end, we'll goddamn well give it our best shot first. And this is the place to do it.

I've never really had time for romantic relationships. I have much more important things to worry about, like saving the world from zombies.

Songs remain. They last...A song can last long after the events and the people in it are dust and dreams and gone. That's the power of songs.