A Quote by Seth Grahame-Smith

I like my zombies slow and I like my zombies stupid. — © Seth Grahame-Smith
I like my zombies slow and I like my zombies stupid.
The worst part about zombies raging unchecked is the slow paralysis that they induce in people who aren't quite zombies yet. The rest of us un-zombies turn our heads, hoping the ghouls will just go away.
I think the world's big enough for all kinds of zombies. You can have yours and I can have mine. I think by going with slow zombies I maybe have been asserting my own kind of zombie snobbery, but I don't begrudge the youngsters their tackling, running, jumping zombies.
I quickly decided my zombies weren't really zombies. It was instead something you called people who were on this club drug, who then exhibited aggressive behaviors. And then like everyone who writes about zombies, I found it was so much fun.
I also have always liked the monster within idea. I like the zombies being us. Zombies are the blue-collar monsters.
Since zombies are not fully dead, they upset the essential balance of nature: no animals eat zombies, apparently, and zombies do not seem to decay, at least, not to the point of disintegration and reintegration back into the soil, so the food chain, or the circle of life, seems to end or be short-circuited by their existence. Zombies fulfill the worst potentialities of humans to create a hellish kingdom on earth of endless, sterile repetition and boredom.
When fighting zombies, the only comfort one can have--if, indeed, it can be called a "comfort"--is knowing where the zombies are. "They are over there, and we are over here. When they come at us, we're going to shoot them down. That's how it's going to work. They're just zombies, and they're way over there. No way are we going to f*** this up." But when zombies then unexpectedly pop up behind you--Bam!--the whole battle plan's not so cut and dried, is it, Mr. Tough Guy?
Holly: Seriously, you don't like unicorns? What kind person doesn't like unicorns? Justine: What kind of a person doesn't like zombies? What have zombies ever done to you? Holly: Zombies shamble. I disapprove of shambling. And they have bits that fall off. You never see a unicorn behaving that way. Justine: I shamble. Bits fall off me all the time: hair, skin cells. Are you saying you disapprove of me?
I think that the invasion of suburbia, our homes and our families, by this indefatigable, unstoppable force like zombies is frightening and personal. And it's so much more frightening than a national park like Disneyland being invaded by Martians. I think that's the enduring appeal of zombies.
We've done a zombie episode - only one - and the way we look at it as is we understand that there probably aren't zombies out there for real, but there's a lot of interesting stuff we can test about them. We've tested how bodies of zombies pressing against a gate, would they push it through and things like that.
Poetry is emotion, passion, love, grief - everything that is human. It is not for zombies by zombies.
I love zombies. If any monster could Riverdance, it would be zombies.
To me, the zombies have always just been zombies. They've always been a cigar. When I first made 'Night of the Living Dead,' it got analyzed and overanalyzed way out of proportion. The zombies were written about as if they represented Nixon's Silent Majority or whatever. But I never thought about it that way.
When I started writing, there was nothing about zombies. It was all teen movies, which to me are scarier than zombies, but that's another story.
Zombies dont mess with other zombies.
Everything scares me. I'm very easily frightened. But the thing that scares me most is zombies. I really, really don't like zombies.
If you look at zombie movies throughout history, they're always making adjustments. Even the idea of the virus zombies and the back-from-the-dead zombies... there's been tons of tweaks.
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