Given a choice between life and death, choose life. Given a choice between right and wrong, choose what's right. And given a choice between a terrible truth and a beautiful lie, choose the truth every time.

Alive or dead, the truth won't rest. Rise up while you can.

George, she says it's the truth that matters. We live and die for the chance to maybe tell a little bit of the truth, maybe shame the Devil just a little bit before we go.

It is what it is. Isn't that how these things always go? They are what they are. We just get to cope.

Behold the power of the truth. When people see its shadow on the wall, they don't want to take the time to look away.

She told the truth as she saw it, and she died for it. I came along for the ride, and I lived. It wasn't worth it. But it was the truth, and it was what had to happen.

God is the ultimate recycler. We have a good planet here. It has its troubles, yes. We have overpopulation, we have pollution, we have global warming, we have the Thursday night television lineup,” more laughter, “and, of course, we have the infected. We have a lot of problems on Earth, and it might seem like a great idea to hold the Rapture now—why wait? Let’s move on to Heaven, and leave the trials and tribulations of our earthly existence behind us. Let’s get while the getting’s good, and beat the rush.“It might seem like a great idea, but I don’t think it is, for the same reason I don’t think it’s a great idea for a first grader to stand up and say that he’s learned enough, he’s done with school, thanks a lot but he’s got it from here. Compared to God, we’re barely out of kindergarten, and like any good teacher, I don’t believe He intends to let us out of class just because we’re finding the lessons a little difficult. I don’t know whether I believe in the Rapture or not. I believe that if God wants to do it, He will… but I don’t believe that it’s coming in our lifetime. We have too much work left to do right here.

Nothing is impossible to kill. It's just that sometimes after you kill something you have to keep shooting it until it stops moving

Think about that for a moment. They died for you. Now take a good look at the life you're living and tell me: Did they do the right thing?

...they come to us, these restless dead,Shrouds woven from the words of men,With trumpets sounding overhead(The walls of hope have grown so thinAnd all our vaunted innocenceHas withered in this endless frost)That promise little recompenseFor all we risk, for all we've lost...

Every life has a watershed moment, an instant when you realize you’re about to make a choice that will define everything else you ever do, and that if you choose wrong, there may not be that many things left to choose. Sometimes the wrong choice is the only one that lets you face the end with dignity, grace, and the awareness that you’re doing the right thing.

Nothing says "deeply in mourning" like canapés and free beer.

I was tired of being a haunted house' he said. 'Thank you for coming home.

The problem with people who have power is that they start thinking more about what it takes to keep that power than they do about whats right or wrong or just plain a bad idea. Here's a tip for you: if you're ever in a position to be making calls on right and wrong that can impact an entire nation, run your decisions past a six year old. If they look at you in horror and tell you you're getting coal in your stocking for the rest of your life, you should probably reconsider your course of action. Unless you want to be remembered as a monster, in which case, knock yourself out.

Words have power.

Hire new field systems maintainer" was near the top of my to-do list, right under "uncover massive political conspiracy," "avenge Buffy's death," and "don't die.

...but that was the thing about reality. It didn't need to make sense.

Do I believe in God? That somebody made all this happen for a reason, that there’s something waiting for us after we die? That there’s a purpose to all this crap? I don’t know. I’d like to be able to say “Yes, of course” almost as much as I’d like to be able to say “Absolutely not,” but there’s evidence on both sides of the fence.

This is crap," Shaun said, withdrawing his arm."Right," I agreed. "Absolutely fucking crap.""No argument.""I want to punch somebody right about now.""Not it," Rick said."I punch back," Steve said.

One man's gospel truth is another man's blasphemous lie. The dangerous thing about people is the way we'll try to kill anyone whose truth doesn't agree with ours.

My mother once told me that no woman is naked when she comes equipped with a bad mood and a steady glare.

I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter what we wanted. What matters is what we chose to do with the things we had.

Everything is 'just a story'. Tragedy, comedy, end of the world, what ever it's just a story. What matters is making sure it's heard.

We were the ones on scene when everything went down. We weren't better. We weren't worse. We were just the ones standing in the blast radius.

Speak English at this table or I will fire you so fast you'll wind up standing at the airport wondering how you got from here to there without any goddamn pants on.

When the corruption seems to go all the way to the end of the world, the only good approach is through the front door with a gun in each hand.

People blame science. Shit, man, people shouldn’t blame science. People should blame people.

You can't win. Logic has no power over her when her territory has been invaded by heathens.

There is nothing truer in this world than the love of a good dog.

She really talks to you, doesn't she?" She asked. "it's not just you talking to her. She talks BACK.""hel, half the time she starts it." I said, half-defensively. "I know it's weird.""Well, yes, it's weird. Technically, I think it's insane. But who am I to judge?" Maggie shrugged. "I live in a house most people view as the setting of a horror movie waiting to happen, with an army of security ninjas and a couple dozen epileptic dogs for company. I don't think I'm qualified to pass judgement on 'weird'.

It's better to go out with a bang and a press release than with a whimper and a secret.

Fuck this. Let's just blow some shit up.

The truth may set you free. It won't fill your fuel tank.

Seriously, that woman is so much crazy crammed into a small space that she's practically a crazy singularity.

I just find it interesting that kids apparently used to cry when Bambi's mother died. George and I both held our breaths, and then cheered when she didn't reanimate and try to eat her son.

And then everything was in the hands of gravity, which has never had much love for the terminally stupid.

There is nothing so patient, in this world or any other, as a virus searching for a host.

I just don’t understand why anyone would want to get their caffeine in a less-efficient form.

...brains are the only things that stand between a living person and a gruesome death. Or maybe brains and Kevlar.

We are in the middle of what looks increasingly like the zombie apocalypse. Moaning people don't need help. Moaning people are intending to eat us.

And to those who would choose the safety of inaction over the danger of taking a stand, I have this to say:You bloody cowards. May you have the world that you deserve.

If you want to go foraging into the wilds of Canada without proper gear, you deserve what you get, even if that happens to include being attacked by an undead moose.

Our story opens where countless stories have ended in the last twenty-seven years: with an idiot—in this case, Rebecca Atherton, head of the After the End Times Irwins, winner of the Golden Steve-o Award for valor in the face of the undead—deciding it would be a good idea to go out and poke a zombie with a stick to see what happens.

My story ended where so many stories have ended since the Rising: with a man—in this case, my adoptive brother and best friend, Shaun—holding a gun to the base of my skull as the virus in my blood betrayed me, transforming me from a thinking human being into something better suited to a horror movie.

I grinned, revealing the gap where my left incisor had been prior to a nasty encounter with a man who thought that running a zombie dog fighting ring would be a great way to spend his twilight years. Ben alwasy says I'd be more photogenic and pull better ratings if I got it fixed, but Ben can stuff it. I don't have the time or patience to mess around with dentures and bridges, and given the odds and how I tend to do my job, I'll probably be a zombie someday. Being a zombie with unbreakable titanium implants in my mouth seems like an asshole thing to do.

There was one thing no one considered, however: Australia was populated by Australians. While the rest of us were trying to adapt to a world that suddenly seemed bent on eradicating the human race, the Australians had been dealing with a hostile environment for centuries. They looked upon our zombie apocalypse, and they were not impressed.

May posterity show mercy when it look back upon the work we do today. We did what we could with what we had.

If anything, global response to the Rising only confirmed something that many Australians had quietly believed for quite some time: If forced to live in Australia for a year, most of the world’s population would simply curl up in a fetal ball and die of terror.

You know what? Fuck it. Just fuck it. The Rising didn't manage to wipe out the human race, it just made us turn into even bigger assholes than we were before. Hear that, mad science? You failed. You were supposed to kill us all, and instead you turned us into monsters.