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Something Wicked ...
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  (page 76 of 293)
"'A boy, no more and no less than twelve years old.'

oh fuck right off.
This is not even close to his peculiar writing style, but goddamn it.

The boy looked e x a c t l y twelve.

yeah, ok."
Dec 28, 2025 07:39AM

 
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Alan             Moore
“Remember? Ohh, I wouldn't do that! Remembering's dangerous. I find the past such a worrying, anxious place.

"The past tense", I supposed you'd call it. Ha ha ha.”
Alan Moore, Batman: The Killing Joke

Robert M. Sapolsky
“If we accept that there will always be sides, it’s a nontrivial to-do list item to always be on the side of angels. Distrust essentialism. Keep in mind that what seems like rationality is often just rationalization, playing catch-up with subterranean forces that we never suspect. Focus on the larger, shared goals. Practice perspective taking. Individuate, individuate, individuate. Recall the historical lessons of how often the truly malignant Thems keep themselves hidden and make third parties the fall guy. And in the meantime, give the right-of-way to people driving cars with the “Mean people suck” bumper sticker, and remind everyone that we’re all in it together against Lord Voldemort and the House Slytherin.”
Robert M. Sapolsky, Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst

Jordan B. Peterson
“I dreamed I saw my maternal grandmother sitting by the bank of a swimming pool, that was also a river. In real life, she had been a victim of Alzheimer’s disease, and had regressed, before her death, to a semi-conscious state. In the dream, as well, she had lost her capacity for self-control. Her genital region was exposed, dimly; it had the appearance of a thick mat of hair. She was stroking herself, absent-mindedly. She walked over to me, with a handful of pubic hair, compacted into something resembling a large artist’s paint-brush. She pushed this at my face. I raised my arm, several times, to deflect her hand; finally, unwilling to hurt her, or interfere with her any farther, I let her have her way. She stroked my face with the brush, gently, and said, like a child, “isn’t it soft?” I looked at her ruined face and said, “yes, Grandma, it’s soft.”
Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief

“Manī ir bērns, kas nekad nav izaudzis liels.”
Margareta Ogorde

A.N. Wilson
“When I left this country, the best part of forty years ago, England still seemed to have a soul. It had pulled together after the war and committed itself to a welfare system …"
"Jesus, it was the welfare system which drained this fucking country of its soul—can't you see that? The dependency culture destroyed any sense of having to do something for yourself.”
A.N. Wilson, My Name Is Legion: A Novel

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