Lukasz

“How can we know, for sure, that the universe is an immense tapestry? What proof is there that this is the case? Absolutely none! By simply asserting it’s a tapestry, without any evidence, believers cheat. What if, instead of a tapestry, the universe is a massive collage clumsily glued onto light-years of black construction paper by a drooling, psychotic lowlife? This seems to make far more sense to me. It would explain a lot.”
― Nicole Cushing, A Sick Gray Laugh

“But during that time, all the wise scholars and profound thinkers who ran the place fell to brooding on the nature of human society, and came to the conclusion that, left to itself, it didn’t work terribly well. And why? Because, they argued, plausibly enough, it tends to be run by idiots; kings (ruled by their own base desires and hopelessly interbred) or dictators (anyone who seizes power by that very act disqualifies himself from being trusted with it) or oligarchies (irredeemably self-serving and corrupt) or, God help us, democracies (in the republic of the stupid, the half-witted man is prime minister) – there had to be a better way, and to the wisest men in the known world, it was painfully obvious what it was. If a job needs doing, do it ourselves.”
― K.J. Parker, Saevus Corax Deals with the Dead

“Marissa Theodora took out her journal, put it on her lap so Mr. Alva would not see. She penciled thoughts as they came. ‘Picture the classroom plunged into dark,’ she wrote. A touchable darkness, like the fur of a black cat. A thick fog of ink. You can move through it; just not quickly. Can’t shout through it; only talk in low soft tones.’ She frowned. Why ‘plunged into dark’? Why not ‘opened’? Darkness was already everywhere. Under the floor, between the walls. Up in space and below the earth. Everyone’s pockets were full of Dark. Our heads? Stuffed with the stuff. Close your eyelids and roll your eyes inward, and gaze into the cavern of your skull. Behold: your secret vault of Dark. Marissa considered writing that. Decided not. It sounded gloomy, even creepy.”
― Raymond St. Elmo, In Theory, it Works

“You want a defenseless girl to walk home in the near dark?”
“Seriously? The biggest danger in the streets of Theory, Texas is some farmer letting his dog drive the tractor. A lot of the dogs around here drink.”
― Raymond St. Elmo, In Theory, it Works