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“Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible.”
― Man's Search for Meaning
― Man's Search for Meaning
“You get what anybody gets - you get a lifetime.”
― The Sandman, Vol. 1: Preludes & Nocturnes
― The Sandman, Vol. 1: Preludes & Nocturnes
“People ask you for criticism, but they only want praise.”
― Of Human Bondage
― Of Human Bondage
“Religions are, by definition, metaphors, after all: God is a dream, a hope, a woman, an ironist, a father, a city, a house of many rooms, a watchmaker who left his prize chronometer in the desert, someone who loves you—even, perhaps, against all evidence, a celestial being whose only interest is to make sure your football team, army, business, or marriage thrives, prospers, and triumphs over all opposition. Religions are places to stand and look and act, vantage points from which to view the world. So none of this is happening. Such things could not occur. Never a word of it is literally true.”
― American Gods
― American Gods
“At the end of the street was a large glass box with a female mannequin inside it, dressed as a gypsy fortune teller.
“Now,” said Wednesday, “at the start of any quest or enterprise it behooves us to consult the Norns.”
He dropped a coin into the slot. With jagged, mechanical motions, the gypsy lifted her arm and lowered it once more. A slip of paper chunked out of the slot.
Wednesday took it, read it, grunted, folded it up and put it in his pocket.
“Aren’t you going to show it to me? I’ll show you mine,” said Shadow.
“A man’s fortune is his own affair,” said Wednesday, stiffly. “I would not ask to see yours.”
Shadow put his own coin into the slot. He took his slip of paper. He read it.
EVERY ENDING IS A NEW BEGINNING.
YOUR LUCKY NUMBER IS NONE.
YOUR LUCKY COLOUR IS DEAD.
Motto:
LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON.
Shadow made a face. He folded the fortune up and put it inside his pocket.”
― American Gods
“Now,” said Wednesday, “at the start of any quest or enterprise it behooves us to consult the Norns.”
He dropped a coin into the slot. With jagged, mechanical motions, the gypsy lifted her arm and lowered it once more. A slip of paper chunked out of the slot.
Wednesday took it, read it, grunted, folded it up and put it in his pocket.
“Aren’t you going to show it to me? I’ll show you mine,” said Shadow.
“A man’s fortune is his own affair,” said Wednesday, stiffly. “I would not ask to see yours.”
Shadow put his own coin into the slot. He took his slip of paper. He read it.
EVERY ENDING IS A NEW BEGINNING.
YOUR LUCKY NUMBER IS NONE.
YOUR LUCKY COLOUR IS DEAD.
Motto:
LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON.
Shadow made a face. He folded the fortune up and put it inside his pocket.”
― American Gods
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