I did it thirty-five minutes ago.
I’m the king of the 20th century. I’m the boogeyman, the villian, the black sheep of the family.
The dusk reeks of fornication and bad consciences.
The one place gods inarguably exist is in the human mind.
If we can come up with all sorts of imaginative ways in which people die, then I really don’t see what the problem is with coming up with imaginative ways in which people can procreate.
I live my life free of compromise, and step into the shadows without complaint or regret.
How can two people hate so much without knowing each other?
You see, there’s the way things seemed and then there’s the way things were and one is so often the total reverse of the other.
It’s only those exceptional and rare individuals who have brilliant ideas delivered to them by the muse, complete and gift wrapped. The rest of us have to work at it.
Does the human heart know chasms so abysmal?
Is it meaningless to apologize? Never.
There is no coincidence. Only the illusion of coincidence.
Please, don’t go. It’s lonely. There’s a hole in my head as big as the world and it’s so very lonely...
Roses are red Violets are blue Everything’s possible Nothing is true.
Perhaps this is the purpose of all art, all writing, on the murders, fiction and non-fiction: Simply to participate.
I didn’t put you in a prison, Evey. I just showed you the bars.
Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask.
Please! Don’t all leave. Somebody has to do it, don’t you see? Somebody has to save the world...
I’m 65 years old. Everyday the future looks a little bit darker. But the past, even the grimy parts of it, well, it just keeps on getting brighter all the time.
I am brother to dragons, and companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat.