Cliff Jones Jr. > Quotes

“His abrasive, over-the-top style had earned him a loyal fan base, despite—or perhaps because of—the many scandals that dogged him throughout his career. He was a tax cheat, a philanderer, a bigot, a bully . . . pretty much everything you might expect from a guy named Dumptruck.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“God, I thought I’d have more time. All the time in the world.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“We can hardly be expected to see ourselves objectively, especially in matters of the mind.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“He was a straw man in a suit, a walking false flag. Ninety percent of everything he said was crap, and the remaining ten percent was sprinkled in there just to rub his stink on it. The question of whether he himself actually believed the things he said was irrelevant. He was a puppet in a long line of puppets. He played his part just as his so-called opponents were playing theirs.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“I can’t disconnect, you know? It’s like a drug. For one reason or another, I keep coming back.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“He probably wouldn’t do any jail time at all, not with the perennial War on Drugs in full force. Too many dope smokers and pill poppers to lock up instead.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“So Flip would just have to go on, trying to do more good than harm, day by day. He couldn’t undo his wrongs, but he could recognize them and try to guard against adding on more.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“The most salient conclusion he could draw from his studies so far was this: Nothing is understood half so well as people generally assume. No matter the field, more study is needed.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“I’m tired of making the same mistakes over and over just because of some subconscious fears or desires or whatever. I want to get back to my real life. I want to dream my own dreams again.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“Violet looked up at the perfectly full moon. Just a big dead rock floating there doing nothing. But it never ceased to be beautiful somehow. Maybe that’s what makes it beautiful, she considered. It’s not trying to be something it’s not. Earth, on the other hand, was straining pretty hard, always scrambling to remake itself in the image of some sci-fi dystopia from the golden age of ersatz coffee and mutton chop sideburns. When will it be enough?”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“It felt as if the world had suddenly revealed itself to be a dream. She knew that she was free to do whatever she wanted, but she didn’t dare. Real or not, she had to go on living in this dream world day after day.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“MeFirst was a corporation, a legal fiction. Its only moral obligation was to make money for its shareholders.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“One moment they were human beings with their own distinct minds and perceptions and personalities, and the next they were scenery—all but invisible.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“And then . . . the world seemed to fold in on itself. Everything fell away and scattered like ashes in a strong wind.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn Neil was a stolid, meditative introvert, keeping the bulk of his thoughts and feelings to himself. But no, Neil voiced his thoughts freely enough. There just weren’t all that many of them.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, as the saying went. Unless it’s also holding the key to your cage. That might actually be worth it.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“The whole planet would become one big interconnected web of cameras. It was all too much to fathom, this writhing, seething mass of digitized human lives—this mocking, sneering leviathan.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“Beltane, man! It’s, uh . . . Irish, I think. But even better than Paddy’s Day. It’s like Mardi Gras meets Halloween!”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“No one likes putting a cash value on their own freedom, selling their soul two weeks at a time. But every one of them had done just that, and they resented the company for it.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“It’s always a dream.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“Laila could picture the flow of traffic all around her. From above, she watched the cars move along in streams like all those ants on her kitchen floor. What had they been looking for anyway? A crumb here, a speck of sugar there? The vast stockpiles of food in the pantry and fridge remained untouched. For that matter, what kept all these cars returning to the city day after day? A little money, a little entertainment? Surface operations like Livetrac kept the ants fighting over crumbs while the obscene fortunes of a shadowy elite were counted not in dollars but in lives.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“They had to try and appreciate their time together without putting too much thought into why it was so precious, how it could evaporate at any moment and leave them marooned once more in their separate threads of reality.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“Maybe there was more waiting for you beyond the veil—eternal paradise even—but maybe not. Better the devil you know than the one you don’t.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“They’re not human, but they’re not exactly alien either. They’ve probably been with us from the beginning; we just haven’t had a reliable means of detecting them until now.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“Martha jumped into his path as he made his way through the kitchen, so Flip held out a hand for her. She rubbed against his fingers from her nose to the tip of her tail and then wandered off again like their business was complete.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“They say if we forget the past, then we’re doomed to repeat it, but the word ‘doomed’ is a bit strong, I’d say. It’s just the eternal return. You’ve got to fall in love with Fate. Imagine Sisyphus happy.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“You tell me I’m dreaming, but all I know is I exist here. I can’t remember anything beyond that. So it’s real enough.”
― Cliff Jones Jr.

“We still have as much time as we’ve ever had. I just want to try living at full speed for a while.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“They seemed to skitter past her like living creatures. Their movements were purposeful, organic, just the slightest bit unsteady. It was as if instead of rubber tires, each wheel comprised thousands of tiny insectoid limbs, all black and chitinous with cruel hooked claws for feet.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“She held a B.A. in English literature, which was of only slightly more interest to employers than his own Ph.D. in linguistics—that is to say, none whatsoever.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck