Best 28 quotes in «inhuman quotes» category

Can't you recognize the human in the inhuman?

It is inhuman to continue a war which could easily be ended

He didn't look insane or inhuman. He did look uncooperative.

Aggression knows no distinction between human and inhuman action.

You must disobey an order, if the order is unfair, or inhuman. Disobedience is not something we are being taught.

An Inhuman, In Human.

Revenge is an inhuman word.

Then once you get people locked up, it's an incredibly inhuman system.

What is called politics is comparatively something so superficial and inhuman, that practically I have never fairly recognized that it concerns me at all.

As Rafe watched the hovercopter circle back, I saw that his aqua eyes had a golden sheen, like sunlight reflecting off the surface of a lake, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. “Your eyes . . .

Give yourself some credit,” he went on, “not a lot of silkies would have made it this far.” “I stopped you from killing Chorda,” (...) “Hey, come one,” Rafe said. “It's your first time in the Feral Zone. Of course you made mistakes.” “Like falling for the wrong boy?” I'd said it to be funny, since he was always teasing me about Everson, but Rafe grew still. He turned his gaze on the dark skyline. “No, you didn't. He's a stiff, but he's a good guy, he won't crawl out of your window after you fall asleep or come on to your sister.” “I don't have a sister.” “Missing the point.

Machinic desire can seem a little inhuman, as it rips up political cultures, deletes traditions, dissolves subjectivities, and hacks through security apparatuses, tracking a soulless tropism to zero control. This is because what appears to humanity as the history of capitalism is an invasion from the future by an artificial intelligent space that must assemble itself entirely from its enemy's resources.

That demented animal didn't deserve a name.

Many times we refer to people who express hate or behave in a barbaric, savage 'inhuman' way as 'animals', but on closer inspection we can clearly see that this is in fact, an insult to animals.

Painting the enemy as being as inhuman as possible is a great way to win a war.

The king who stepped into the ballroom wearing a green velvet robe and bejeweled crown was none other that the tiger-man who'd prowled through my nightmares and nearly every waking moment for the past two days. Chorda.

There were five of them, and four had traded their eyes for green-gold wasps that curled into their sockets and compounded their vision. Claws graced their hands like sharp commas. Scales at their throats burned red when they breathed. One wing sighed bellows-like out of the naked back of the shortest, the one who still had slate-gray human eyes. After a while, I'd wished he had wasps instead.

Promise me, Lane,” Rafe pleaded, letting me hear the depth of his anguish. “Okay. I will,” I said, hating the promise even as I made it. “But only if I hear about a feral infected tiger, which I won't because I'll be on the other side of the wall.” A smile touched Rafe's lips, genuine this time. “You'll be back. A fierce girl like you belongs on the wild side.

Remember what I said when I led to Omar and the queen?" I bobbed my head, unable to look away from his jewel-like eyed, shining in the darkness...so much like Chorda's. "That was the lie. Good-bye, Lane," he said and then crept into the darkness.

When people become inhuman, they degrade the true value of humanity.

These robots are literally inhuman, and yet I react no differently to their stumblings and topplings than I would to the pratfalls of a fellow human. I don’t imagine I would laugh at the spectacle of a toaster falling out of an SUV, or a semiautomatic rifle pitching over sideways from an upright position, but there is something about these machines, their human form, with which it is possible to identify sufficiently to make their falling deeply, horribly funny.

This was the geography around which my reality revolved: it did not occur to me, ever, that people were good or that a man was capable of change or that the world could be a better place through one’s taking pleasure in a feeling or a look or a gesture, of receiving another person’s love or kindness. Nothing was affirmative, the term “generosity of spirit” applied to nothing, was a cliche, was some kind of bad joke. Sex is mathematics. Individuality no longer an issue. What does intelligence signify? Define reason. Desire—meaningless. Intellect is not a cure. Justice is dead. Fear, recrimination, innocence, sympathy, guilt, waste, failure, grief, were things, emotions, that no one really felt anymore. Reflection is useless, the world is senseless. Evil is its only permanence. God is not alive. Love cannot be trusted. Surface, surface, surface was all that anyone found meaning in … this was civilization as I saw it, colossal and jagged …

Why do girls always chase after the wild ones?” Mahari asked.

Traumatic events destroy the sustaining bonds between individual and community. Those who have survived learn that their sense of self, of worth, of humanity, depends upon a feeling of connection with others. The solidarity of a group provides the strongest protection against terror and despair, and the strongest antidote to traumatic experience. Trauma isolates; the group re-creates a sense of belonging. Trauma shames and stigmatizes; the group bears witness and affirms. Trauma degrades the victim; the group exalts her. Trauma dehumanizes the victim; the group restores her humanity. Repeatedly in the testimony of survivors there comes a moment when a sense of connection is restored by another person’s unaffected display of generosity. Something in herself that the victim believes to be irretrievably destroyed---faith, decency, courage---is reawakened by an example of common altruism. Mirrored in the actions of others, the survivor recognizes and reclaims a lost part of herself. At that moment, the survivor begins to rejoin the human commonality...

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.

Because I am an inhuman monster, I tend to be logical.

Wild animals are less wild and more human than many humans of this world

An indifference to suffering makes humans inhuman