Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I'm steel-toed boots in a ballet-slipper world.
Love a man who'll bleed to make a point. (Candy)
He wore his fear on his skin for everyone to see.
No wonder Sherlock Holmes did all that coke. Math is hard.
If Jesus was a bartender, He would still only be half as cool as Carlos.
All losers are romantics. It's what keeps us from blowing our brains out.
Twenty percent? What am I, your waiter? I got you five vampires, not a BLT.
Being able to embrace contradictions is a sign of intelligence. Or insanity.
The ashes of your existence will fertilize the soil for the universe to follow.
That's what Glocks are. High-precision killing machines that scream "Daddy Issues.
Let me finish my beer." (Stark) "Of course. The end of the world can wait.(Kasabian)
When you're born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it's not.
I can deal with fighting in the arena in Hell, but laundry and dishes put the fear of God in me.
Don't talk. Kill it." That might be the sweetest thing a woman's ever said to me on a first date.
Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.
I've come a long way to get nowhere at all, I thought. And I've spent everything I have to get here.
We must always look after our friends, even when they are foolish. Especially when they are foolish.
Did I hurt your feelings again? Sorry. When this is all over I'll send some flowers to your inner child.
Enemies will kill you with a knife in the back. Friends will kill you with kindness. Either way you're dead.
Try not to sing too many sad songs for yourself. The universe already hates you. Self-pity isn't going to help.
I came ready to fight Genghis Khan and I walk in on a shut-in playing the biggest Dungeons and Dragons game in history.
The place looks like where David Lynch would meet Beaver Cleaver's mom for secret afternoons of bondage and milkshakes.
If I learned anything Downtown, it's this: the only real difference between an enemy and a friend is the day of the week.
I'd like to think they're staring at me because of my white-hot animal magnetism, but I'm not Elvis. I'm Lobster Boy, hear me roar.
God is the great janitor of the universe. Why things don't work is that we have a janitor in charge, and we keep looking for the landlord.
Let me make sure I have this straight. The cavalry just now rode into town and it's a Czech Gypsy porn-star zombie killer. Have I got that right?
Don't drink too much." "When I can spell out your name in shot glasses, I'll stop." "I'll have to get a shorter name." "I'll have to forget how to spell it.
I tap a Malediction out of the box, fire it up, and puff. It tastes like a tire fire in a candy factory next door to a strip club. The best cigarettes ever.
Chasing a burning girl down a city street is a lot harder than it sounds. Civilians tend to stop and stare and this turns them into human bowling pins. Slow whiny bowling pins.
If his drunkenness had legs, it would be Alexander the Great and conquer the known world. Then it would puke for a week into a solid gold toilet it stole from Zeus's guest room.
In this life, no matter what anyone promises you, what allegiances of love or fealty they swear or what gods they pray to, you will never have more than what you have at this moment.
When you jump off a cliff, is it better to land on jagged rocks or burning lava? I know this one. The answer is obvious: It doesn't matter where you land. You just jumped off a cliff.
If Donald Trump and the Wicked Witch of the West had a kid, it would be Jayne-Anne. She looks like a librarian with some money and good taste in clothes but underneath the Verace, she's Godzilla with tits.
I guarantee you I'm not going to forget your voice. We're going to run into each other down the road sometime, and when we do I'm going to pop you apart one rivet at a time." "There's the monster. Hello, monster.
Besides, do you think you would have come if I’d just popped into your tattoo shop one night around closing and said, ‘Hello, I’m the Prince of Darkness. Think you could help me out with a little war next Tuesday, say, sixish?
I seldom feel trapped by my world. Setting up rules and restrictions is part of the process. It gives your world shape. I always look at these things like haiku: you have to work within certain parameters, but within them, you’re completely free.
The dead think they can get away with anything because you'll feel sorry for them. If you play cards with the dead, make sure you deal and don't let them buy you drinks. They'll slip you a formaldehyde roofie and pry the gold fillings out of your teeth.
In the Tarot deck, the Fool is depicted as a young man about to step off a cliff into empty air. Most people assume that the Fool will fall. But we don't see it happen, and a Fool doesn't know that he's subject to the laws of gravity. Against all odds, he just might float.
It doesn't matter if you and everyone else in the room are thinking it. You don't say the words. Words are weapons. They blast big bloody holes in the world. And words are bricks. Say something out loud and it starts turning solid. Say it loud enough and it becomes a wall you can't get through.
There are two Venices I know about and one of them is a hotel in Vegas. The other is an L.A. beach where pretty girls walk their dogs while wearing as little as possible and mutant slabs of tanned, posthuman beef sip iced steroid lattes and pump iron until their pecs are the size of Volkswagens.
As each wave of technology is released. It must be accompanied by a demand for new skills, new language. Consumers must constantly update their ways of thinking, always questioning their understanding of the world. Going back to old ways, old technology is forbidden. There in no past, no present, only an endless future of inadequacy
The universe is a meat grinder and we're just pork in designer shoes, keeping busy so we can pretend we're not all headed for the sausage factory. Maybe I've been hallucinating this whole time and there is no Heaven and Hell. Instead of having to choose between God and the devil, maybe our only real choice comes down to link or patty?
...playing with the Barbie-size keyboard on my new phone. Phones are like toys now. They fit in your pocket, light up and vibrate like joy buzzers. Plus, you can get-I mean, "access"-the Internet and find anything you want. Music. Maps. Porn. Anything. If cell phones came with a cigarette dispenser, they'd be the greatest stupid invention ever.
Revenge is never what you think it's going to be. There's no pleasure and glory, and when it's done your grief remains. Once a man does the things you're talking about, he will never be the same, and he can never go back to who he was before. Worst of all, no matter how many enemies you kill, you are never satisfied. There is always one more who deserves it. When it becomes too easy to kill, it never ends.
This is where you first failed us. You gave us minds and told us not to think. You gave us curiosity and put a booby-trapped tree right in front of us. You gave us sex and told us not to do it. You played three-card monte with our souls from day one, and when we couldn't find the queen, you sent us to Hell to be tortured for eternity. That was your great plan for humanity? All you gave us here was daisies and fairy tales and you acted like that was enough. How were we supposed to resist evil when you didn't even tell us about it?