“They held each other and wept as the night closed its fist around their tiny shelter, and the world below them seethed with killers both living and dead.”

“Yo! Deadheads," he yelled, waving his sword to taunt them. "Nice try, but you're messing with Benny-freaking-Imura, zombie killer. Booyah!”

“I don't ever want to live in a world where something like mercy...or maybe it's compassion...is the wrong choice.”

“She gathered the cat up in her arms and held it to her chest as if it was the most precious thing in the world.”

“She wept for the hurt that he owned, a hurt she could never hope to remove.”

“We're each alone inside our heads, some more so than others.”

“Boy, there are people who conquered half the world, slaughtered whole populations, wiped cultures off the face of the planet, and you know what history calls them? Heroes! Kings, presidents, champions, explorers. You think America was settled by white men because the Indians invited us her? No, we took this land because we were stronger, and that's how every page of human history is written. It's just our nature. We're a predator species, top of the food chain. Survival of the fittest is written in our blood, it's stenciled on every gene of our DNA. The strong take and the strong make, and the weak are there only to help them do it. End of story.”