One's ribs shouldn't be prison bars.
War may be an auction for countries. For soldiers it's a lottery.
All revolutions are the sheerest fantasy until they happen; then they become historical inevitabilities.
Women, O, women! They'll find the baddest meanin' in your words & hold it up.
The Revelation of Sonmi 451 To be is to be perceived, and so to know thyself is only possible through the eyes of the other. The nature of our immortal lives is in the consequences of our words and deeds, that go on and are pushing themselves throughout all time. - Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.
War's an auction where whoever can pay the most in damage and still be standing wins.
Taro taught me that people respect spirit, but even cowards don't respect cowards.
If I want to act relaxed, it's going to take all my cunning, skill, and concentration.
Hate eats the hater the way ogres eat little boys.
The mind abhors a vacancy & is wont to people it with phantoms.
If war's first victim is truth, its second is clerical efficiency.
Nothing is as eloquent as nothing.
To enslave an individual troubles your consciences, Archivist, but to enslave a clone is no more troubling than owning the latest six-wheeler ford, ethically. Because you cannot discern our differences, you assume we have none. But make no mistake: even same-stem fabricants cultured in the same wombtank are as singular as snowflakes.
Good moods’re as fragile as eggs...Bad moods’re as fragile as bricks.
But no, we cross, crisscross, and recross our old tracks like figure skaters.
Human beings need to watch out for reasonless niceness too. It's never reasonless and its reason's not usually nice.
I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of the past. I’m nervous at the moment.
The mind has a mind of its own. It shows us pictures. Pictures of the past and the might-one-day-be. This mind's mind exerts its own will, too, and has its own voice.
This world, he thinks, contains just one masterpiece, and that is itself.
Freedom!- is the fatuous jingle of our civilization, but only those deprived of it have the barest inkling re: what the stuff actually is.
Italians give their city sexes, and they all agree that the sex for a particular city is quite correct, but none of them can explain why. I love that. London's middle-aged and male, respectably married but secretly gay.
Peace, though beloved of our Lord, is a cardinal virtue only if your neighbors share your conscience.
These jokes the world plays, they're not funny at all.
...now I'm a spent firework; but at least I've been a firework.
Trees're always a relief, after people.
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