When it's done, only our enemies leave roses.
They say we have we created the man to end all wars; I say we have created a man to end all worlds.
There... Poor little things. You see them? Standing with their numbers on their blank, indifferent faces, Nuremberg in miniature, the ranks of painted wooden men... Poor dominoes. Your pretty empire t...
Spring Lane burned with a mythology of chipped slates, pale wash-water blue and flaking at the seam. The summer yellow glow of an impending dawn diffused, diluted in the million-gallon sky above the t...
SR: We are talking of a world war.AQ: And that makes you sweat, son? SR: Heavens, man! Doesn't it you?
Professor Einstein says that time differs from place to place. Can you imagine? If time is not true, what purpose have watchmakers, hein?
I sat on the bed. I looked at the Rorschach blot. I tried to make it look like a spreading tree, shadows pooled beneath it, but it didn't. It looked more like a dead cat I once found, the fat, glisten...
I found it very difficult to feel easy around the guy, even once I'd got used to the shock of his presence. It's a strange feeling...the first time you meet him your brain wants to scream, blow a fuse...
I didn't put you in a prison, Evey. I just showed you the bars.
I am tired of this world, these people. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.
For you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg; the clay in which the forces that shape all things leave their fingerprints most clearly.
Bond believes we are his pawns. He thinks no-one observes his game. But I am No-One. I observe everything, and to play with Nemo is to play games with Destruction.
Look at him now, poor fellow. That's what a dose of reality does for you...Never touch the stuff myself, you understand. Find it gets in the way of the hallucinations.
With so much chaos, someone will do something stupid. And when they do, things will turn nasty
We have laboured long to build a heaven, only to find it populated with horrors.
Voila! In view humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi now vacant, v...
Three things, then. Escape, and finding work, and then explaining himself adequately. It was just those areas he had trouble with. Everything else, he was all right about.
This city is dying of rabies. Is the best I can do to wipe random flecks of foam from its lips?
Things have their forms not only in space, but also in time.
There's no flesh or blood within this cloak to kill. There's only an idea. Ideas are bulletproof.