Emily Gore > Emily's Quotes

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  • #1
    Voltaire
    “It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets.”
    Voltaire

  • #2
    Anderson Cooper
    “The farther you go...the harder it is to return. The world has many edges and it's easy to fall off.”
    Anderson Cooper, Dispatches from the Edge: A Memoir of War, Disasters, and Survival

  • #3
    Ernest Hemingway
    “Never think that war, no matter how necessary, nor how justified, is not a crime.”
    Ernest Hemingway, Ernest Hemingway: A Literary Reference
    tags: war

  • #4
    Charles Bukowski
    “We are
    Born like this
    Into this
    Into these carefully mad wars
    Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
    Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
    Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
    Born into this
    Into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die
    Into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty
    Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
    Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes”
    Charles Bukowski

  • #5
    Vince Flynn
    “It was war, and in war the truth was almost always the first casualty.”
    Vince Flynn, Executive Power

  • #6
    Richard Price
    “You don't write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid's burnt socks lying in the road.”
    Richard Price

  • #7
    Shel Silverstein
    “I will not play at tug o' war.
    I'd rather play at hug o' war,
    Where everyone hugs
    Instead of tugs,
    Where everyone giggles
    And rolls on the rug,
    Where everyone kisses,
    And everyone grins,
    And everyone cuddles,
    And everyone wins.”
    Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends

  • #8
    Dwight David Eisenhower
    “Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense. Under the clouds of war, it is humanity hanging on a cross of iron.”
    Dwight D. Eisenhower

  • #9
    Jonathan Safran Foer
    “What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war.”
    Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

  • #10
    Alan             Moore
    “Stood in firelight, sweltering. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent. Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night.

    Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else.

    Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It’s us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world.

    Was Rorschach.

    Does that answer your Questions, Doctor?”
    Alan Moore, Watchmen



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