comics.xml

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<quotations
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  <title>Comic Book Quotations</title>
  <editor>A.M. Kuchling</editor>
  <description>Quotations from various comic book titles.</description>
  <quotation id="q1">
    <p>
      You're a good guy, Doc. You're sensitive and caring and
compassionate. And if I could, I'd spew in your face.
    </p>
      <source>Cliff Steele in DOOM PATROL #19</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q2">
    <p>
      "Hello, Kay. Isn't it a bit wet to be painting?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Kay's down in the underground, where there's no rain. You're
talking to the hangman's beautiful daughter."
    </p>
      <source>Magnus and Kay Challis ("Crazy Jane") in DOOM PATROL #19.</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q3">
    <p>
      I've tried to be like them, I really have. But what happens when
you just can't be strong anymore? What happens if you're weak? My
painting's ruined. Everything's gone wrong.
    </p>
      <source>Crazy Jane in DOOM PATROL #19</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q4">
    <p>
      Guy was a human torch, you know? Literally. His hair...
everything... but he kept on walking. Real slow, like in a bad dream.
Before he died, he said something weird. I... I got it written down
right here. "...scissormen... The scissormen!"
    </p>
      <source>A stunned cop in DOOM PATROL #19</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q5">
    <p>
      It begins to rain fish. Mackerel. Herring. Sea bass. Pike.
Sturgeon. Tench. Plaice. Salmon. From a clear sky. Trout. No cod.
    </p>
      <source>Father McGarry's last sight, in DOOM PATROL #20.</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q6">
    <p>
      "Rain Brain says your voice is like an old black telephone and
Black Annis told me to tell you that you're the first man she hasn't
wanted to castrate."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Tell her she'd be too late anyway."
    </p>
      <source>Crazy Jane and Cliff Steele in DOOM PATROL #20.</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q7">
    <p>
      "Thirdly be grimmer as fond brevities."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Eider with alders."
    </p>
    <p>
      "And erethism safer."
    </p>
      <source>Three Scissormen introduce themselves in DOOM PATROL #20</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q8">
    <p>
      In Rome, in Leningrad, in Darwin. "The door flew open, in he
ran, the great, long, red-legged scissorman."
    </p>
      <source>From DOOM PATROL #20</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q9">
    <p>
      I couldn't think of one clever way to stop this guy, so I just
trusted to mindless violence.
    </p>
      <source>Cliff Steele in DOOM PATROL #21</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q10">
    <p>
      "Jane? Jane, are you... Oh my God."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is no God. I killed him."
    </p>
      <source>Cliff Steele meets Black Annis in DOOM PATROL #21.</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q11">
    <p>
      All I want is the answer to one simple question before I run
screaming back to the bughouse. Is this real or isn't it?
    </p>
      <source>Cliff Steele in DOOM PATROL #21</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q12">
    <p>
      "It might help to consider the Zen koan, 'First there is a
mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Sure. That's really helped to clear things up."
    </p>
      <source>Niles Caulder and Cliff Steele in DOOM PATROL #21</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q13">
    <p>
      Here the skull of a consumptive child becomes part of a great
machine for calculating the motions of the stars. Here, a yellow bird
frets within the ribcage of an unjust man.
    </p>
      <source>Welcome to Orqwith, in DOOM PATROL #22</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q14">
    <p>
      You know, all of a sudden I can't think of anything even
remotely funny to say.
    </p>
      <source>Cliff Steele sees Orqwith, in DOOM PATROL #22</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q15">
    <p>
      Sorry about the writing. Robot fingers, you know?
    </p>
      <source>Cliff Steele in DOOM PATROL #23</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q16">
    <p>
      "You shot your imaginary friends? With what?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "An imaginary gun! What else?"
    </p>
      <source>Josh and Dorothy in DOOM PATROL #25</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q17">
    <p>
      I wish I were an angry shoe, a bodiless balloon. Cut off my
covenant with God the pain of orthopedic glue.
    </p>
      <source>Darling-Come-Home's song in DOOM PATROL #25</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q18">
    <p>
      "Shouldn't we put Cliff's brain back into the body?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Later, Joshua. I refuse to perform a delicate operation without
chocolate."
    </p>
      <source>Josh and Niles Caulder, in DOOM PATROL #34</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q19">
    <p>
      "Where is my gum? I must try to look as normal as possible."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I believe you stuck it onto the side of my head."
    </p>
      <source>Monsieur Mallah and the Brain, in DOOM PATROL #34</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q20">
    <p>
      Chess! I'm tormented by thoughts of strip chess. Pure mind just
isn't enough, Mallah. I long for a body.
    </p>
      <source>The Brain, in DOOM PATROL #34</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q21">
    <p>
      Instead, you and I became the cornerstones of the Brotherhood of
Evil! An empire of crime such as I'd dreamed of back in the old
school, when the other children used to laugh at me because I was a
brain in a tank.
    </p>
      <source>The Brain, in DOOM PATROL #34</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q22">
    <p>
      I don't think. I just act. You brains are the ones who do all
the thinking. You ruin it for us bodies.
    </p>
      <source>Cliff's body, in DOOM PATROL #34</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q23">
    <p>
      Kiss me, Mallah! But first... please.. take that gum out of your
mouth.
    </p>
      <source>The Brain, in DOOM PATROL #34</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q24">
    <p>
      Oh, Venice, Venice, what have you allowed yourself to become?
Crushed by the weight of your own past, stinking slowly into the
waves. They've taken away your function, removed you from the present
and from the future, and turned you into a drug mainlined into the
veins of history junkies.
    </p>
      <source>??? in DOOM PATROL #50</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q25">
    <p>
      I'm warning you--I have a boiled egg and I know how to use it!
    </p>
      <source>??? in DOOM PATROL #50</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q26">
    <p>
      Now. Take this street to New Mexico.
    </p>
      <source>??? in DOOM PATROL #50</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q27">
    <p>
      The Living Guru! Hip-hop bishop of beat! The cool, gone Daddio
of the Deva Dimensions!
    </p>
      <source>Grant Morrison goes completely insane in DOOM PATROL #53</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q28">
    <p>
      You could say it all started in Arizona. Twenty-five years ago.
On a farm.
    </p>
      <source>The narrator, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q29">
    <p>
      It was an ordinary sort of farm in Arizona. The kind of place
where you'd have sexual relations with your parents and end up
shooting someone.
    </p>
      <source>The narrator, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q30">
    <p>
      The well was like an old man who'd lost the desire to get
dressed in the mornings. The well would sit around all day in its
pajamas waiting for something to happen... Twenty-five years ago
something did happen.
    </p>
      <source>The narrator, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q31">
    <p>
      On Tuesdays he also wears the blue socks and the grey underwear
and counts his bath towels. He has twenty-five bath towels. But how
could anyone survive with less?
    </p>
      <source>The narrator introduces us to Michael Smith, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q32">
    <p>
      Michael is a tree ape who lost most of his hairs and now has
nightmares about black horses and cancer. Sometimes he feels like a
rumor drifting through a world of hard facts. What's the
<em>point</em> of you, Michael?
    </p>
      <source>The narrator asks a rhetorical question, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q33">
    <p>
      The little mind games he plays, like reciting the dictionary
backwards from memory, fail to amuse him for long. The walls of the
world have been torn down and the wind that blows through is cold and
preposterous.
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma waits in his room, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q34">
    <p>
      He creates a new language, a new grammar, eight cases and five
genders. This passes twenty minutes. Then it's boredom again...
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma kills time, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q35">
    <p>
      Boredom, ennui, absurdity. His closest, his only friends... It
looks like there's nothing for him to do but get dressed.
    </p>
      <source>Getting ready, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q36">
    <p>
      He couldn't face Sandra this morning. Crept out without saying
goodbye. There's a dent on the hood of his car. There's a green lizard
floating across the road.
    </p>
      <source>Michael's commute is interrupted, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q37">
    <p>
      You see, you're all wrong. My name isn't Brain Eater. I am the
Head. And I don't simply eat brains. It's something deeper than that.
Something magical. Something transubstantiational. Excuse me one
moment while I ... &lt;shlurppp&gt;
    </p>
      <source>The first villain, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q38">
    <p>
      Many primitive [*] peoples believe that if you eat a person's
brains, you acquire his knowledge.
    </p>
    <p>
      [*] Footnote: A primitive person is one who doesn't drive a car.
Cars are among the greatest causes of premature deaths of lizards in
Arizona.
    </p>
      <source>Digressing, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q39">
    <p>
      When the honey of another's life touches my nervous system I
could almost be sucking on God's little finger.
    </p>
      <source>The Head, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q40">
    <p>
      As soon as Roger saw the costume, his mind assumed the
proportions of an industrial revolution unaware of the ecological
damage it was causing.
    </p>
      <source>The origin of the Head, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q41">
    <p>
      His first victim was a priest. Roger's senses were blessed with
furtive longings and sweet altar wine.
    </p>
      <source>The Head's backstory, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q42">
    <p>
      I am the Head and I demand your shrunken experiences now!
    </p>
      <source>In ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q43">
    <p>
      What do you think? Which has a better, a more sublimely
developed, sense of the ridiculous? Life? Or death? Or me? Or Michael
Smith?
    </p>
      <source>A rhetorical question, in ENIGMA #1: "The Lizard, The Head, The Enigma"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q44">
    <p>
      If it wasn't for the fact that a monster called the Head was
plunging a metal pipe up his nose preparatory to sucking his brains
out, Michael Smith could almost laugh.
    </p>
      <source>Opening sentence of ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q45">
    <p>
      At last he's got it. He's got the joke. The joke is life. The
punchline is that there are so many things he'd like to do with his
life, now that his life is over. Not much of a joke. Not much of a
life.
    </p>
      <source>Michael Smith makes his peace, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q46">
    <p>
      I know who you are, he thinks. You're my old secret pal...
You're the Enigma, he thinks... And then dies.
    </p>
      <source>The protagonist dies, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q47">
    <p>
      "But as the papers say, he's caught the public's imagination."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Didn't know they had any."
    </p>
      <source>Cops, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q48">
    <p>
      He sits quite still for two days, forgetting to move.
Remembering the previous two days with such precision that it takes
fully two days to remember them... remembering with such clarity that
he forgets for a while that this is a memory and not the thing
remembered.
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma kills more time, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q49">
    <p>
      Is this enough? Does this make it worthwhile? Does this make it
less absurd? With these actions can I recreate the dark and sensible
walls of an abandoned well?
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma wonders, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q50">
    <p>
      He took the Head in his arms and looked into the eyes, looking
for recognition, meaning, something, and seeing only madness and
death, bashed his head open.
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma recollects, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q51">
    <p>
      ... lies and half-truths and deceits. Our society is built on
them. Our churches and schools and politicians deal in them. Your
entire lives are awash with them.
    </p>
      <source>The Truth, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q52">
    <p>
      "Who among you can claim to be honest? Who does not lie? You? Do
you claim to be honest?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ahhh, I just work here, sir."
    </p>
      <source>The Truth and a security guard, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q53">
    <p>
      "If you could step outside..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There is no outside. There is no inside or outside, no up or
down, when it comes to the truth."
    </p>
      <source>A security guard and the Truth, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q54">
    <p>
      For a moment he hesitates, memories stirring. Another life,
another person. Suntans, lies and half-truths, a wife, a mistress, the
clandestine clinic for cocaine dependency... A package arriving one
morning containing a see-through, a brutually honest see-through body
stocking...
    </p>
      <source>The Truth falters, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q55">
    <p>
      The Truth fixes the unlucky man with a stare of such dismal
honesty that the complex layers of lies and illusions on which the
man's life is based fall away, one by one, leaving in their place all
that is left once the lies have gone... nothing.
    </p>
      <source>The Truth's modus operandi, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q56">
    <p>
      Should we say any words? We can't just turn him off like he was
a microwave or something.
    </p>
      <source>Sandra watches Michael's life support being turned off, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q57">
    <p>
      Look at me. Look into my eyes. See the bitter truth of your life
reflected in them. All those lonely nights. All those nasty thoughts.
You're the actor. <em>You're</em> the one playing a character who is a
lie!
    </p>
      <source>The Truth kills again, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q58">
    <p>
      For a second he feels almost solid. Almost as though he were a
real person in a real world.
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma pauses a moment, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q59">
    <p>
      The ants scurrying about, busily feeding, fighting, collecting,
building, dying. The lizards watching the world as though they're
wise, but they're not wise, just ugly enough to be wise.
    </p>
      <source>Further reflections, in ENIGMA #2: "The Truth"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q60">
    <p>
      It's like the book of Revelations, but funnier. It's like the
Last Trumpet, but hopelessly out of tune. It's like the perennial
battle between good and evil but no one can quite work out which is
which anymore, and most people don't even know what perennial means.
    </p>
      <source>Opening lines of ENIGMA #3: "The Good Boy"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q61">
    <p>
      The Truth has entered the church. He broke in a few hours ago
and gave a sermon on the kind of truths you won't find in any book.
Good, bad, or indifferent. Thirty-five believers, ten agnostics and
two closet Satanists kicked the Eucharist.
    </p>
      <source>The Truth strikes again, in ENIGMA #3: "The Good Boy"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q62">
    <p>
      But look at these others. The Enigmatics, they call themselves.
Did these apes lose most of their brains when they lost most of their
hair? They can't wait to leave their parents, then once they've left
them, can't wait to find new and bigger parents to obey.
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma spawns a cult, in ENIGMA #3: "The Good Boy"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q63">
    <p>
      My own characters have come to life to get me, I thought. I
should have been nicer to them.
    </p>
      <source>Titus Bird, in ENIGMA #3: "The Good Boy"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q64">
    <p>
      Dad died in the last big earthquake to hit Pacific. It was like,
after that, Mom was scared of anything chaotic in our lives. Like
everything was on the edge of collapsing, getting sucked into an
earthquake of chaos.
    </p>
      <source>Michael talks about his parents, in ENIGMA #3: "The Good Boy"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q65">
    <p>
      "Someone, I think John Cage, said that life without order was
chaos, but order without life was death."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Who's John Cage?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "It doesn't matter."
    </p>
      <source>Titus and Michael, in ENIGMA #3: "The Good Boy"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q66">
    <p>
      Hey, Michael, you really don't want to go in there. No, really
you don't. The Truth hurts, you know...
    </p>
      <source>Closing lines of ENIGMA #3: "The Good Boy"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q67">
    <p>
      "Are you ready for me? Are you ready for my indifference? For my
abysmal disinterest? Are you ready to have the lies and conceits of
your life peeled away like so many layers of skin? Are you ready for
the truth?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ahhh... No, I... I don't really think I am..."
    </p>
      <source>The Truth and Michael Smith, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q68">
    <p>
      Too bad. The truth is a rude guest. The truth doesn't knock on
the door and wait to be asked in.
    </p>
      <source>The Truth, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q69">
    <p>
      Look into my eyes. You will see the dull horror of your
childhood and we will begin to dissect this pointless obsession of
yours.
    </p>
      <source>The Truth, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q70">
    <p>
      When he opens his eyes he finds himself in a nightmare world
surrounded by nightmare creatures with grotesque ovoid heads and
wildly flapping limbs. Michael tells the policemen he remembers
nothing.
    </p>
      <source>Aftermath, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q71">
    <p>
      Exactly the Truth is being carted out, to the cheers of the
crowd, who obviously fail to see the irony of the Truth dying in a
church. Actually, I fail to see the irony in that too, but who cares
what I think? I mean, do I really care what you think? Who are you
anyway? I mean, are you following any of this?
    </p>
      <source>The narrator gets tetchy, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q72">
    <p>
      Someone has broken into his house and completely rearranged the
furniture. And as he looks at the room, now so grotesquely unfamiliar,
it's as though something breaks into John's head, and completely
rearranges the furniture there.
    </p>
      <source>John Cade's doom, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q73">
    <p>
      "TV and papers are full of it. They creep into homes and
rearrange the furniture."
    </p>
    <p>
      "My God! The monsters!"
    </p>
      <source>Titus and Michael discuss the Interior League, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q74">
    <p>
      It seems they rearrange the furniture in such a way that
somehow, God knows how, it drives at least one member of the household
crazy. Like the furniture arranged in this pattern is a key that
unlocks the mind...
    </p>
      <source>Titus explains the Interior League, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q75">
    <p>
      Like so many others who have abandoned jobs, families,
commitments; who chucked in the whole caboodle, torn up their past
lives and all they'd thought important to seek out Envelope Girl. All
captivated by her strong manila arms, her lovely gumminess, the heady
allure of her zip code.
    </p>
      <source>An aging judge's description, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q76">
    <p>
      Returned to his place, he sits quite still, pretending he
doesn't exist, which is a harder game than you might imagine.
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma kills yet more time, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q77">
    <p>
      Oh great. Charlie Manson is on my side. Things are really
looking up.
    </p>
      <source>Titus Bird, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q78">
    <p>
      You know what impresses me about you? Your ability to be as
pathetic as you are and not want to kill yourself. If I were you, I'd
<em>have</em> to kill myself.
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma talks to the rich cat, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q79">
    <p>
      What does it mean, huh? What does it mean when those kids die
so... pointlessly? It doesn't mean anything, does it? That's the scary
part. If it meant something, you could handle it, but it doesn't.
    </p>
      <source>Titus Bird, in ENIGMA #4: "And Then What?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q80">
    <p>
      Look, they're carrying the corpses away, ho hum.
    </p>
      <source>Opening line of ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q81">
    <p>
      Do I sound detached? Indifferent? I'm not, believe me. I'll tell
you a secret: I'm not a distant narrator, aloof from the action of
this story... I'm a part of this story.
    </p>
      <source>The narrator drops a hint, in ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q82">
    <p>
      It's the following day and two more houses have been redecorated
by the Interior League. Five people dead.
    </p>
      <source>Events continue to flow, in ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q83">
    <p>
      But somehow lizards are connected to all this. They're a
constant theme.
    </p>
      <source>Michael Smith, in ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q84">
    <p>
      What are we doing in this suburban living room? And look at that
furniture, for God's sake!
    </p>
      <source>The narrator comments on decor, in ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q85">
    <p>
      The eyes burn with all the wet violence of the young and all the
dry malevolence of the old. ... This creature will play a big part in
our story, you wait.
    </p>
      <source>Foreshadowing, in ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q86">
    <p>
      Molesters and foul abusers of comfy chairs and imitation
Edwardian sideboards, deflowerers of teak coffee tables and meek
landscape paintings and ...
    </p>
      <source>The Interior League described, in ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q87">
    <p>
      This of course is nothing like the comic book Enigma. This is
real life, or as real as your life gets, anyway.
    </p>
      <source>Violence, in ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q88">
    <p>
      Of course I'm here. I've always been here, there, and
everywhere.
    </p>
      <source>Envelope Girl sounds rather Kosh-like, in ENIGMA #5: "Lizards and Ghosts"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q89">
    <p>
      My mother laid flowers on the ground above here. Seagulls flew
off with them, before the crappy little makeshift service was even
finished. Everything was against us. My poor old dad. The ground
swallowed him and then the sky stole his flowers. Poor old dad.
    </p>
      <source>Michael Smith in the tomb, in ENIGMA #6: "The End of The World"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q90">
    <p>
      I lost my Enigma comics too. They were buried with him and I
used to imagine him like an Egyptian pharaoh, buried with what he
needed for the afterlife, reading <cite>The Enigma</cite> for all
eternity.
    </p>
      <source>Michael Smith, in ENIGMA #6: "The End of The World"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q91">
    <p>
      "I'm whoever you want me to be."
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, sorry. That's the kind of tacky, bogus line that Titus used
to come up with. It works okay on the page but just doesn't sound real
when it's spoken."
    </p>
      <source>The Enigma and Michael, in ENIGMA #6: "The End of The World"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q92">
    <p>
      People move in and out of other people's lives, and no one ever
knows exactly what other people are thinking. In this way we are all
alone. But I am more alone than most.
    </p>
      <source>The narrator, in ENIGMA #7: "Sex in Arizona"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q93">
    <p>
      He had a charming lightness of touch as he transfixed the young
doctor, neatly stripped him, and prepared to devour him, smelly toes
first. Of course they hadn't told him that he wasn't allowed to eat
the doctors: they'd just arrogantly presumed he wouldn't.
    </p>
      <source>Opening lines of ENIGMA #8: "Queer"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q94">
    <p>
      I think we should just be silent for one moment here, and
contemplate this waste of reptilian life. Excuse me, are you still
there? I haven't lost you yet, have I?
    </p>
      <source>The narrator is uncharacteristically moved, in ENIGMA #8: "Queer"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q95">
    <p>
      It's my belief that if you cut into a thing deeply enough; if
your incisions are precise and persistent and conducted methodically,
then you may reveal not only that thing's inner workings, but also the
<em>meaning</em> behind those workings. This conviction was shared by
the historical personage whose life is central to <cite>From
Hell</cite>, although perhaps his beliefs were expressed in a somewhat
broader sense than my own. For my part, the thing that I am concerned
with cutting into and examining is the stillwarm corpse of history
itself. In my chilliest moments, I sometimes suspect that this was
<em>his</em> foremost preoccupation also, albeit in pursuit of
different ends.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In the Appendix of <cite>From Hell:The Compleat Scripts</cite></source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q96">
    <p>
      This book is dedicated to Polly Nichols, Annie Chapman, Liz
Stride, Kate Eddowes, and Marie Jeanette Kelly. You and your demise:
of these things alone are we certain. Goodnight, ladies.
    </p>
      <source>Dedication in the TPB of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q97">
    <p>
      "The working class don't <em>want</em> a revolution, Mr Lees:
they just want more money."
    </p>
      <source>Abberline, in the prologue to FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q98">
    <p>
      "Don't you ever feel guilty? We could have said something. We
could have done something. <em>Why</em>, Fred? Why did we just let
them bury it?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Because we didn't want our throats cut. Because we didn't want
our lights hung over our shoulders."
    </p>
      <source>Lees and Abberline, in the prologue to FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q99">
    <p>
      "Well, if I may not work the ocean I should like to work with
something of a kind to it... something that flows like the ocean...
something salt and old."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, as a child, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q100">
    <p>
      "Though concerning the objects of your pity I fear there's
little hope."
    </p>
    <p>
      "There <em>must</em> be... even for such unfortunates. Is not
all base matter gradually ascending; refining itself into pure
spirit?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Assuredly... but some wretches have a downward momentum in
their lives almost impossible to reverse."
    </p>
      <source>Gull and Hinton, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q101">
    <p>
      "Consider it: water will of necessity flow downhill, thwarting
all our best efforts that it should do otherwise. In order that water
might rise despite itself it must first be transmuted into steam. It
must first be touched by the purifying spirit of fire."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q102">
    <p>
      "Dorset Street -- the most evil in London, I'm told."
    </p>
      <source>Hinton, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q103">
    <p>
      "Such minds, Hinton, shaping infinity itself."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q104">
    <p>
      "Fourth dimensional patterns within Eternity's monolith would,
he suggests, seem merely random events to third-dimensional
percipients."
    </p>
      <source>Hinton, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q105">
    <p>
      "Let us say something peculiar happens in 1788... a century
later, related events take place. Then again, 50 years later. Then 25
years. Then 12. An invisible curve, rising through the centuries."
    </p>
      <source>Hinton, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q106">
    <p>
      "Can history then be said to have an architecture, Hinton? The
notion is most glorious and most horrible."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q107">
    <p>
      "Such purpose. I am fifty, my own purpose unrevealed despite
meaningless laurels."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q108">
    <p>
      "Our son is a wastrel and a halfwit. We shudder to think of the
throne in his hands. But he is none the less of our flesh and our
obligation is most severe..."
    </p>
      <source>Queen Victoria, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q109">
    <p>
      "These times, they are a worry to us, and it has been too long
since we had men about us who were strong and dependable. Since dear,
dear Albert... Go. Go now, Dr Gull. We would be alone."
    </p>
      <source>Queen Victoria, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q110">
    <p>
      "There is a wrong, an intense wrong, in our society running all
through our life... And it will be made righter some day. I dashed
myself against it but it is no one man's strength can move it. It was
too much for my brain, but it is by the failure of some that others
succeed, and through my very foolishness shall come better success to
others... perhaps more than any cleverness of mine could have
wrought."
    </p>
      <source>James Hinton, quoted in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q111">
    <p>
      "Fear not, though thoughts and memories most unendurable beset
your mind... for I shall take them all away and quite relieve your
suffering."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q112">
    <p>
      "Less then a thimble-full of iodine divides the intellectual
from the imbecile. Of which phenomenon I shall forthwith attempt a
demonstration."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q113">
    <p>
      "I dreamed about Stamford Street, where I lived with my Billy
before 'e ran off..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Dreams! It's wakin' life's the trouble!"
    </p>
      <source>Polly Nichols and Annie Chapman, in FROM HELL #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q114">
    <p>
      "<em>No</em>, sir! Not "Done away with" for that is common
murder, only fit for common footpads. I spoke of grand work, Netley.
Grand work. A great work must have many sides from which we may
consider it."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #4</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q115">
    <p>
      "Do you begin to grasp how truly great a work is London? A
veritable textbook we may draw upon in formulating great works of our
own!"
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #4</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q116">
    <p>
      "The greater part of London's story is not writ in words. It is
instead a literature of stone, of place-names and assocations."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #4</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q117">
    <p>
      "Symbols have <em>power</em>, Netley... Power enough to turn
even a stomach such as yours, or to deliver half this planet's
population into slavery."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #4</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q118">
    <p>
      "Do whatever needs to be done. You make your cuts, Sir Charles.
I'll make mine."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #5</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q119">
    <p>
      "What a life you have endured, awaiting nothing but
deliverance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Mm. I... Sir? I feel so queer. Does everything look sparkly to
you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Why, child, that's just the stars. This is a rare and special
night, I think. For both of us."
    </p>
      <source>Gull and Polly Nichols, in FROM HELL #5</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q120">
    <p>
      "You're forging a letter from a killer? But that's ..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "It's a whole new style of journalism, Mr Gibbs, and we're
inventin' it right 'ere in Wapping."
    </p>
      <source>Mr Best and Mr Gibbs, in FROM HELL #7</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q121">
    <p>
      "Oh God. I've been tryin' not to think about it. I had such a
lovely fuck with Joe last night. I thought "Is this it? Is this the
last of it?"
    </p>
      <source>Mary Kelly, in FROM HELL #8</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q122">
    <p>
      "Gull, please, in the name of reason..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Invoke not reason. In the end it is too small a deity."
    </p>
      <source>Sir Charles Warren and Gull, in FROM HELL #8</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q123">
    <p>
      "It... ughh... it is these grapes. They have something on them,
I think."
    </p>
    <p>
      "'tis laudanum. A little, nothing more. They are the grapes of
mercy, child, not lightly spat away."
    </p>
      <source>Elizabeth Stride and Gull, in FROM HELL #8</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q124">
    <p>
      "If you'll forgive me, Sir, I am Robert Lees, psychic adviser to
Her Majesty. I am familiar with your work, Sir, and have long
anticipated this meeting."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Indeed? I am similarly familiar with <em>your</em> work , Sir,
profiting from delusions born of bereavement. Consequently, I have
relished this meeting not at all. Good day."
    </p>
      <source>Robert Lees and Gull, in FROM HELL #9</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q125">
    <p>
      "Say what you will, Sir. You are welcome to remain ensconced in
lore and ritual. For my part I am happy to entertain a questioning
spirit."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ha ha ha! Then mark my words, Mr Yeats, your bones shall never
rest easy. Good day to you, Sir."
    </p>
      <source>W.B. Yeats and Gull, in FROM HELL #9</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q126">
    <p>
      "Oh, an' I see Anderson's back from 'is Swiss 'olidays, ayin' we
should arrest every tart for 'er own protection!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Well, he's one of them Second-Coming Christians, ain't he?
Perhaps he'll put some of them up at his house."
    </p>
      <source>Abberline and Godley, in FROM HELL #9</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q127">
    <p>
      "There, there, Netley. There, there. I shall tell you where we
are. We're in the most extreme and utter region of the human mind, a
dim sub-conscious underworld. A radiant abyss where men meet
themselves... Hell, Netley. We're in Hell."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #9</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q128">
    <p>
      "You're mad."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, undoubtedly. But you're helpless."
    </p>
      <source>Sir Charles Warren and Gull, in FROM HELL #9</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q129">
    <p>
      "Dear God, what is this Aethyr I am come upon? What spirits are
these, labouring in what heavenly light? No... No, this is dazzle, but
not yet divinity."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #10</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q130">
    <p>
      "It would seem we are to suffer an apocalypse of cockatoos...
Morose, barbaric children, playing joylessly with their unfathomable
toys."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #10</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q131">
    <p>
      "Where comes this dullness in your eyes? How has your century
numbed you so? Shall man be given marvels only when he is beyond all
wonder?
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #10</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q132">
    <p>
      "You are the sum of all preceding you, yet seem indifferent to
yourselves. A culture grown disinterested, even in its own abysmal
wounds."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #10</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q133">
    <p>
      "Ah, Mary, how time's levelled us. We are made equal, both mere
curios of our vanished epoch in this lustless world. This world, where
in comparison I am made ignorant, while you... you are made virtuous."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #10</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q134">
    <p>
      "Do you understand how I have loved you? You'd have all been
dead in a year or two from liver failure, men, or childbirth. Dead.
Forgotten. I have saved you. Do you understand that? I have made you
safe from time, and we are wed in legend, inextricable within
eternity."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #10</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q135">
    <p>
      "Have you done, Sir? Is it finished with?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "It is beginning, Netley. Only just beginning. For better or
worse, the twentieth century."
    </p>
      <source>Netley and Gull, in FROM HELL #10</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q136">
    <p>
      "I have been climbing, Netley, all my life, toward a single
peak. Now I have reached it. I have stood and felt the wind. I have
seen all the world beneath me. Now there is only descent. Only the
valley. Would that I had died there, Netley, in that light above the
cloud line. I'm cold. Take me home."
    </p>
      <source>Gull, in FROM HELL #10</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q137">
    <p>
      "I remember my first Fenian bombin', year afore I were first
married. Makes you think there's naught to us but shit and mincemeat."
    </p>
      <source>Abberline, in FROM HELL #11</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q138">
    <p>
      "To be honest, I felt worse than sick. I came out that room and
I felt somethin' <em>bad</em> 'ad 'appened. Not just to 'er, to
everythin'. I felt as if everythin' were lost."
    </p>
      <source>Abberline, in FROM HELL #11</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q139">
    <p>
      "Come on, Godley. Cheer up, for fuck's sake. There's good things
happen in life as well, y'know."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But... I mean, after that ... that thing in Miller's Court."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I said in <em>life</em>, Godley. I didn't say in the East End."
    </p>
      <source>Abberline and Godley, in FROM HELL #11</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q140">
    <p>
      "Ah, yes. Dear Frank. I'm afraid he's had to retire early with a
mild touch of insanity."
    </p>
      <source>Oscar Wilde, in FROM HELL #11</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q141">
    <p>
      "Oscar <em>Wilde</em>? Oscar Wilde, the <em>writer</em>?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, good heavens, no! <em>Awful</em> fellow. Wouldn't give him
house- room. No, I'm Oscar Wilde the florist. While over <em>here</em>
we have Mr Walter Sickert, the turf accountant... and Mr James McNeil
Whistler, who I believe keeps a tripe stall in Mile End."
    </p>
      <source>Montague Druitt and Oscar Wilde, in FROM HELL #11</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q142">
    <p>
      "It's all just stories when all's said and done."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But that's just the thing, it isn't just stories. Those women
really died. And poor Druitt, caught up in something he could never
understand."
    </p>
    <p>
      "That's all done with though. That's all gone."
    </p>
      <source>Abberline and Robert Lees, in the epilogue to FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q143">
    <p>
      "Take my advice and don't get old. It's bloody rubbish."
    </p>
      <source>Abberline, in the epilogue to FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q144">
    <p>
      "Now there's just us, knowin' what we know, both washed up 'ere.
Can't send a message; can't tell anybody. I expect there's been a lot
of chaps in our position down across the years with one thing and
another. Makes you wonder, sometimes, doesn't it? Make you wonder 'ow
much of the world is true."
    </p>
      <source>Abberline, in the epilogue to FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q145">
    <p>
      "I think there's going to be another war."
    </p>
      <source>Robert Lees, in the epilogue to FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q146">
    <p>
      The problem we face here is that neither Knight nor the
assembled ranks of Freemasonry are necessarily telling the truth, at
which point a Victorian fog starts to engulf the facts of our
narrative. Given that the tortuous story of the Whitechapel murders is
filled with liars, tricksters, and unreliable witnesses, it is a fog
we shall encounter often.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In Appendix I of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q147">
    <p>
      The character and temperament of Victoria here is entirely my
own interpretation, and has indeed been the source of debate between
myself and the otherwise genial and agreeable Mr Campbell of Brisbane,
Australia.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In Appendix I of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q148">
    <p>
      One almost suspects that the bereaved Victoria, who spent the
later decades of her reign in mourning for her departed consort, would
have changed her own name to Albert and the name of the country to
Alberta if she had thought for a moment she could get away with it.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In Appendix I of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q149">
    <p>
      The phrase, Hairy-Ford-Shire, a rather dim pun upon the
pronunciation of "Hertfordshire", is one of an extensive array of
Victorian slang expressions relating to the female genitalia. The
expression, in this instance, was passed on to me by Mr Neil Gaiman,
who has a dirty mouth in at least seven centuries.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In Appendix I of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q150">
    <p>
      As with so much of <cite>From Hell</cite>, when we know the
details of a person's life but not how he or she felt, then we must
resort to fiction unless we are to exclude feelings altogether, which
I don't feel inclined to do.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In Appendix I of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q151">
    <p>
      In the case of the fraudulent and press-generated "Ripper"
letters, we see a clear prototype of the current British tabloid press
in action, and for this reason it seemed poetically apposite that the
letter be composed in Wapping, currently the home of Mr Rupert
Murdoch's highly popular right-wing tabloid, which, unsurprisingly in
this tale of obelisks and other arcane solar symbols, is called
<cite>The Sun</cite>.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In Appendix I of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q152">
    <p>
      On the 29th September, the Central News Agency forwarded the
letter to Scotland Yard that we see Abberline reading aloud here to
Thick and Godley (and if there were ever two names more emblematic of
the police force of that period, I should certainly like to hear
them).
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In Appendix I of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q153">
    <p>
      Abberline's eerily precognitive comments on page two are my own
invention. They are also, in their way, a form of shamefaced apology
from one currently making part of his living wrapping up miserable
little killings in supernatural twaddle. Sometimes, after all you've
done for them, your characters just turn on you.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In Appendix I of FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q154">
    <p>
      Everyone seems agreed that Kelly was the real target. She'd
infected Dr Stanley's son, corrupted Olga Tchkersoff's sister. The
underlying assumption remains unstated: she must have done
<em>something</em> to deserve <em>that</em>.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q155">
    <p>
      By Autumn 1988 I'm thinking of seriously about writing something
lengthy on a murder. The Whitechapel killings aren't even considered.
Too played-out. Too obvious. Publicity around the crimes' centennial,
however, leads me to Knight's book. Ideas coalesce. Deciding on a
serial in Steve Bissette's <cite>Taboo</cite>, I contact Eddie
Campbell. The rest is dodgy pseudo-history.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q156">
    <p>
      Be vewy, vewy quiet. We're hunting Wippers.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q157">
    <p>
      Slowly it dawns on me that despite the Gull theory's obvious
attractions, the idea of a solution, any solution, is inane. Murder
isn't like books. Murder, a human event located in both space and
time, has an imaginary field completely unrestrained by either. It
holds meaning, and shape, but no solution.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q158">
    <p>
      The grounds of the enquiry are a forensic sucking-bog;
treacherous, obsessional. Fall in this stuff and you won't come out
again.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q159">
    <p>
      Reputedly, many prominent Ripperologists never set foot in
Whitechapel for fear of being mugged. Mugging's not the danger here.
This place is authentically dreadful.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q160">
    <p>
      It isn't getting drawn into Masonic Death Conspiracy that
troubles me, you understand. It's getting drawn into the vortex of a
fiction.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q161">
    <p>
      Some stories just don't have what it takes. The yarn that
eventually survives to be accepted as history will do so by brute
Darwinian mechanics. We'll lock all the suspects in a room together.
They can fight it out.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q162">
    <p>
      Our detective fictions tell us otherwise: everything's just meat
and cold ballistics. Provide a murderer, a motive, and a means, you've
solved the crime. Using this method, the solution to the Second World
War is as follows: Hitler. The German economy. Tanks. Thus, for
convenience, we reduce the complex events.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q163">
    <p>
      The greater part of any murder is the field of theory,
fascination and hysteria that it engenders. A black diaspora. Our
tireless, sinister enthusiasm.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q164">
    <p>
      Soon, somebody will notice the disturbing similarities between
the Ripper crimes and recent cattle mutilations, from which they will
draw the only sensible conclusion.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q165">
    <p>
      Likewise, each new book provides fresh details, finer
crennelations of the subject's edge. Its area, however, can't extend
past the initial circle: Autumn, 1888, Whitechapel. ... Koch's
Snowflake: gaze upon it, Ripperologists, and shiver.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q166">
    <p>
      The complex phantom we project. That alone, we know is real. The
actual killer's gone, unglimpsed. Might as well not have been there at
all. There never was a Jack the Ripper. Mary Kelly was just an
unusually determined suicide. Why don't we leave it there?
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q167">
    <p>
      It's going. It's all going. Will anybody bother with a
bicentennial in 2088? Might our pursuit, our quarry, already
endangered, be by then extinct?
    </p>
    <p>
      We were looking at the naked woman dancing when it flew away.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Alan_Moore">Alan Moore</author>
      <source>In "Dance of the Gull-Catchers" in FROM HELL</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q168">
    <p>
      Childbirth is <em>not</em> a miracle. Life is <em>not</em>
sacred. When you have twenty thousand nomads huddled between two
rivers in the Middle East and that's it for Homo sapiens, when one in
five children is a live birth, one in ten living past the age of ten,
<em>then</em> childbirth <em>is</em> a miracle and life <em>is</em>
sacred. When the average age of a grandmother in Philadelphia's
housing projects is twenty-five, to call childbirth a miracle is at
least a tasteless joke and at worst a true obscenity.
    </p>
      <author rdf:resource="http://dbpedia.org/resource/Dave_Sim">Dave Sim</author>
      <source>In the lettercol of Cerebus #142</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q169">
    <p>
      <em>Do not wander off without me.</em> That's how we lost Amelia
Earhart in here. Every day, about two in the afternoon, the thermals
are right, and we hear her somewhere in here, screaming for peanut
buttter and jelly sandwiches.
    </p>
      <source>Harlan's our genial guide through HARLAN ELLISON'S DREAM CORRIDOR Special.</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q170">
    <p>
      You'd have liked my father. He was a sweet guy. He died when I
was fourteen, but when I was a little kid we used to sit together and
I'd read my comic books to him. I don't think he cared much about the
silly stuff in comics -- that was the '40s -- but he loved me and took
pleasure in my reading aloud to him. I miss my dad.
    </p>
      <source>Harlan remembers his childhood, in HARLAN ELLISON'S DREAM CORRIDOR #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q171">
    <p>
      But, if you have a moment, if your heart is big enough to spare
a moment, give a nod and a smile for all the good ones who spent their
lives making great art and small art and even entertainment. When
they're gone, there's only one way to tell them you miss them... Send
them a moment of kind thought right now. The beam will pick it up and
carry it across the stars to them where they wait. I've been sending
good wishes to the ones I miss all evening. Now it's your turn.
    </p>
      <source>Harlan's soliloquy in HARLAN ELLISON'S DREAM CORRIDOR #5</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q172">
    <p>
      When I say that Seth will have his testicles torn off, I do not
mean that his sac will always be a ragged void. If the gods are not
exactly a law unto themselves, they can at least bend the rules. In
other words, some balls bounce back.
    </p>
      <source>Peter Milligan's opening sentences in EGYPT #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q173">
    <p>
      I had it in me to be the Pierce Brosnan of my generation.
    </p>
      <source>Vincent Me's past career plans in EGYPT #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q174">
    <p>
      Vincent, you are a damaged person who uses sexual gratification
as a displacement activity. Now get your hand off my behind.
    </p>
      <source>Ooh, good putdown! in EGYPT #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q175">
    <p>
      I simply reject the capitalist credo. I reject anything that
ends in 'ist' or 'ism'. In fact, I reject anything that ends in 's'.
    </p>
      <source>Is Vincent for real? In EGYPT #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q176">
    <p>
      Years later I was regaining consciousness in America, which is
no mean feat.
    </p>
      <source>Waking from memories of a sister, in EGYPT #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q177">
    <p>
      "The Order of Osiris, the Order of the Listless One, oh God of
Yesterday, He-Who-Is-Awakened, Lord of the Chennet, the suffering god
from whose inert body..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I've got Latin in four hours, Josh. Let's get on with it."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, sorry, of course. Got a little carried away..."
    </p>
      <source>My college years weren't like this! In EGYPT #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q178">
    <p>
      "We got to thinking: how did the priests know exactly how long
to suffocate the new pharaoh for?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ah, ah, preposition at the end of a sentence, Kim. You owe me a
dollar."
    </p>
      <source>Kim and Bobby in EGYPT #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q179">
    <p>
      Three hundred years of tears have soured the very stones of this
house. Drink deep, gentle reader: you have come too far to turn back
now.
    </p>
      <source>Bethlehem Hospital, or Bedlam, in SEBASTIAN O #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q180">
    <p>
      But we cannot disguise our abhorrence of modern communication
devices.
    </p>
      <source>Queen Victoria on teleconferencing, in SEBASTIAN O #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q181">
    <p>
      The dandy has one unique advantage over the common herd. No
matter what the situation, he will always be more exquisitely dressed
than his enemies. Therefore, he has already triumphed.
    </p>
      <source>Sebastian, in SEBASTIAN O #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q182">
    <p>
      One must commit acts of the highest treason only when dressed in
the most resplendent finery.
    </p>
      <source>Sebastian, in SEBASTIAN O #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q183">
    <p>
      We may be in the sewer, but there's absolutely no need for that
kind of gutter profanity.
    </p>
      <source>Sebastian, in SEBASTIAN O #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q184">
    <p>
      If I know Sebastian, he'll find it impossible to continue his
mission in soiled clothing.
    </p>
      <source>Lord Lavender, in SEBASTIAN O #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q185">
    <p>
      And now let us hasten to the station. I have commanded the rain
to fall at exactly one-fifteen and I would hate to get my shoes wet.
    </p>
      <source>Lord Lavender, in SEBASTIAN O #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q186">
    <p>
      I do so loathe nature, don't you? All that dreadful rot and
decay and procreation. Here, everything is so much more tidy. I simply
wind the trees once a day and reset the flowers.
    </p>
      <source>The Abbé does love his clockwork garden, in SEBASTIAN O #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q187">
    <p>
      It would take days to catalog your sins, Abbé. I simply don't
have the time.
    </p>
      <source>Sebastian, in SEBASTIAN O #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q188">
    <p>
      The Abbé, I'm afraid, has gone to meet his maker. Hard to decide
which of the two will receive the greater shock.
    </p>
      <source>Sebastian, in SEBASTIAN O #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q189">
    <p>
      "Don't fret, Theo. The lad's simply stunned. He'll wake up in an
hour, none the wiser."
    </p>
    <p>
      "But his throat has been cut."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, dear, my mistake. My diagnosis regarding his recovery would
appear to have been somewhat premature."
    </p>
      <source>Sebastian and Lord Lavender, in SEBASTIAN O #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q190">
    <p>
      First... a pardon. I should hate to be hounded further for acts
which some might consider crimes, but which I prefer to think of as
aesthetic statements. I have, after all, killed only the <em>very</em>
dull.
    </p>
      <source>Sebastian, in SEBASTIAN O #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q191">
    <p>
      One hardly requires the abilities of a Tiresias to predict fog
in London. What other revelations have you to offer, Theo? That the
Grand National will be won by a <em>horse</em> this year, perhaps?
    </p>
      <source>Sebastian, in SEBASTIAN O #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q192">
    <p>
      We're beginning to think it may be a neurological disorder,
similar to Tourette's Syndrome. It's quite possible we may be looking
at some kind of super-sanity here. A brilliant new modification of
human perception, more suited to urban life at the end of the
twentieth century.
    </p>
      <source>Ruth Adams describes the Joker in ARKHAM ASYLUM</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q193">
    <p>
      You must be feeling quite <em>fragile</em> by now, I expect.
This house, it... <em>does</em> things to the mind.
    </p>
      <source>The Mad Hatter in ARKHAM ASYLUM</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q194">
    <p>
      I pity the poor shades confined to the Euclidean prison that is
sanity.
    </p>
      <source>From Amadeus Arkham's journal in ARKHAM ASYLUM</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q195">
    <p>
      I should say I'm very much cleverer than any of the people who
put me here. As a matter of fact, I could leave any time I wanted.
It's only a doll's house after all. Anyway, I don't mind. I like
dolls. Particularly the live ones.
    </p>
      <source>Mad Hatter's thoughts in ARKHAM ASYLUM</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q196">
    <p>
      "And if you want something hotter, you know where to find me."
    </p>
    <p>
      "In the gutter on a Friday night, Tony."
    </p>
      <source>Tony and Annie in THE MYSTERY PLAY</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q197">
    <p>
      Not every day one has God on the slab, eh?
    </p>
      <source>The coroner in THE MYSTERY PLAY</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q198">
    <p>
      "God is in the details," after all. Or in this case, perhaps,
the details are in God.
    </p>
      <source>The coroner in THE MYSTERY PLAY</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q199">
    <p>
      I think everything that happens in the vicinity of a murder has
some significance: the flight of birds, the shape of the clouds, the
positions of the stars, items discarded by passersby. Nothing can be
overlooked. If I find a match, I have to know where it was made and
from what tree its wood was taken.
    </p>
      <source>The detective in THE MYSTERY PLAY</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q200">
    <p>
      I'm not a metaphysical man. I'm a minister. That's my job.
    </p>
      <source>The minister in THE MYSTERY PLAY</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q201">
    <p>
      I was somebody else once. I... I... don't think I was a very
good person.
    </p>
      <source>The detective in THE MYSTERY PLAY</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q202">
    <p>
      "The killer's still out there, Mr Purves. I hope Christ has
taken out life insurance."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, I'm sure any firm would jump at the chance to ensure a man
who has eternal life, don't you?"
    </p>
      <source>The detective and the mayor in THE MYSTERY PLAY</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q203">
    <p>
      Well, me whole family's musical, Jeffo... even the sewing
machine's a Singer.
    </p>
      <source>John Constantine in HELLBLAZER #90</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q204">
    <p>
      It's a little-known legend is Abaton -- the town of changing
locations. Philosophers, mystics and clever-bastards-in-general have
known of its existence for centuries.
    </p>
      <source>In HELLBLAZER #93</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q205">
    <p>
      As I follow the green man up the narrow path, visions of
electric hedge trimmers go swimming through my brain.
    </p>
      <source>John Constantine in HELLBLAZER #93</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q206">
    <p>
      You are in a beautifully wooded area covered with flowers,
blah-blah- blah...
    </p>
      <source>John Constantine in HELLBLAZER #93</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q207">
    <p>
      If Abaton's the unearthly reflection of all that we are,
Britain's in far worse shape than I thought.
    </p>
      <source>John Constantine in HELLBLAZER #93</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q208">
    <p>
      I've always believed that guilt was an emotion for weaker men --
so where does that leave me?
    </p>
      <source>Wesley Dodds, in SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE: "The Cannon", act I</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q209">
    <p>
      Ah, love... so much better than the alternative.
    </p>
      <source>Rev. Hawsley, in SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE: "The Cannon", act I</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q210">
    <p>
      He's clouds or fires now.
    </p>
      <source>The Cannon finds Donald Eversoll's body, in SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE: "The Cannon", act II</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q211">
    <p>
      Good news is he don't have to go to work tomorrow. Bad news is
the same.
    </p>
      <source>Lt. Burke finds Donald Eversoll's body, in SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE: "The Cannon", act II</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q212">
    <p>
      "I'm surprised you don't think justice is best left to higher
powers, Bagsy?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I do, Dian -- I just want to make sure He knows where to look."
    </p>
      <source>Dian and Rev. Hawsley, in SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE: "The Cannon", act IV</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q213">
    <p>
      "And are your Lord's lessons learned in <em>you</em>, Cannon?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I am confident that I will pass through St. Peter's gates with
only minor negotiations."
    </p>
      <source>The Sandman and the Cannon, in SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE: "The Cannon", act IV</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q214">
    <p>
      Good job, there, O'Grady. Always kick 'em when they're down. You
might just make a detective yet.
    </p>
      <source>Lt. Burke, in SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE: "The Cannon", act IV</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q215">
    <p>
      There are very few people who directly touch my daily life --
and I can't imagine how much poorer I'd be without any of them.
    </p>
      <source>Wesley Dodds, in SANDMAN MYSTERY THEATRE: "The City", act I</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q275">
    <p>
      I was happy in that field. I could have stayed there forever. I
liked life in those days. I thought life was my best friend.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was a happy little idiot, really.
    </p>
      <source>Kathy, in SHADE #1: "Execution Day"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q276">
    <p>
      I read a pamphlet on alcohol abuse once. It said alcohol turns
you into a different person. I thought, "Great! That's for me!" But it
was no good. You always wake up or sober up the same person. With a
headache.
    </p>
      <source>Kathy, in SHADE #1: "Execution Day"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q277">
    <p>
      Shade said all the madness inside people's heads will be
released, made real. The sky looks really weird today. The colors look
wrong. The clouds look wrong. Everything looks wrong. Welcome to the
madhouse.
    </p>
      <source>Kathy, in SHADE #1: "Execution Day"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q278">
    <p>
      "I'm your liberated dreams, baby. Your liberated dreams and your
unfettered screams..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "No! I don't want my dreams to be liberated. Our dreams are too
terrible to be liberated!"
    </p>
      <source>The American Scream and Duane, in SHADE #2: "Who Shot JFK?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q279">
    <p>
      His teeth will always be perfect, his smile the smile of a sun
god, his wife beside him and perfect. Texan sun on the limo's perfect
polished bonnet...
    </p>
      <source>From SHADE #2: "Who Shot JFK?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q280">
    <p>
      And out it comes, out it grows. From the womb of Dallas,
impregnated by seeds of blood and brain and bone, of conspiracy and
deceit, of cowardice and corruption and greed, planted here on a hot
bad Friday. Fifteen seconds past 12:30 PM, November 22, 1963...
    </p>
    <p>
      The Kennedy sphinx... And who shall answer his riddle?
    </p>
      <source>From SHADE #2: "Who Shot JFK?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q281">
    <p>
      So the person chosen to be the leader of your country was
murdered, and you had something called the Warren Commission to cover
it all up. And the people really responsible were never even named.
And the people you employ to protect you, the CIA, the FBI, they
actually helped the people responsible to get away with it? And this
was a popular president? What happens with an unpopular president? Do
you just leave him in the gutter to rot or what?
    </p>
      <source>Shade, in SHADE #2: "Who Shot JFK?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q282">
    <p>
      This sphinx doesn't strangle. This sphinx is the Kennedy sphinx.
This sphinx is American. It consumes. It eats.
    </p>
      <source>From SHADE #2: "Who Shot JFK?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q283">
    <p>
      Cancer is rather interesting. I believe it's a kind of wearing
out of information. Runaway cells who've forgotten who they are or
where they're going. But it mightn't be restricted to creatures or
cells. Why not cancer of civilization? Why not cancer of the
imagination? Imagine a cancer of reality.
    </p>
      <source>Stringer, in SHADE #2: "Who Shot JFK?"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q284">
    <p>
      "Bobby? Jesus... And what about Teddy? They get Teddy, too?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ahhh, no. They didn't need to wipe Teddy out. Teddy was doing a
fine job of that himself."
    </p>
      <source>JFK and Duane, in SHADE #3: "All the President's Assassins"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q285">
    <p>
      I must be plastic. I must transpose myself into a new and mad
view of reality.
    </p>
      <source>Shade, in SHADE #3: "All the President's Assassins"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q286">
    <p>
      The past is a branch, forking through and out from Dallas.
There's more than one truth, more than one assassin. But behind them
all is the same hand, the shadow of the same creature... let's go
deeper still...
    </p>
      <source>Mary Ann, in SHADE #3: "All the President's Assassins"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q287">
    <p>
      Oh, the Mob and the CIA are just the high priests, the guardians
of America's divinity... which is usually green and comes with a
picture of Mr. Washington on one side and the words "In God We Trust"
on the other...
    </p>
      <source>Mary Ann, in SHADE #3: "All the President's Assassins"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q288">
    <p>
      "I say we fly in the choppers, drop a few dozen grenades and
swamp the whole area with napalm. See how the big bastard copes with
that..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You sentimental old liberal, Hopgood. Don't you think we should
try the direct approach?"
    </p>
      <source>Hopgood and Stringer, in SHADE #3: "All the President's Assassins"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q289">
    <p>
      You know, I've a horrible feeling that if we get much deeper
into this madness we're gonna end up having a religious experience.
And I vowed long ago never to have one of those.
    </p>
      <source>Kathy, in SHADE #3: "All the President's Assassins"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q290">
    <p>
      And I am the American Scream, <foreign>e pluribus
unum</foreign>, out of many, one... Giver of voice and flesh to the
quiet screams of unquiet minds.
    </p>
      <source>The Scream, in SHADE #4: "Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q291">
    <p>
      I used to stare at flowers, rage at death, cry at sunsets. After
my confirmation, I was too sensible for that. I enrolled at college,
took my occupational personality test, cried at no more sunsets. I was
a dull little bastard, like all the others.
    </p>
      <source>Shade, in SHADE #4: "Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q292">
    <p>
      And I smile, as a man might smile looking round the ruins of his
house, and finding something he thought he'd lost long, long ago.
    </p>
      <source>Shade, in SHADE #4: "Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q293">
    <p>
      How I enjoy people who refer to themselves in the third person!
It's as though they were reciting from their own biography. And a
biography of a person is always so much more interesting than the
person himself.
    </p>
      <source>Crispin Keen, in SHADE #5: "Hollywood Babble On"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q294">
    <p>
      "Yeah, I heard she'd screw a horse if it meant acting with
Brando."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If it'd help her career she'd screw Brando if it meant acting
with a horse."
    </p>
      <source>Edward and William, in SHADE #5: "Hollywood Babble On"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q295">
    <p>
      "What do you do in America once the money's run out."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Starve."
    </p>
      <source>Shade and Kathy, in SHADE #5: "Hollywood Babble On"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q296">
    <p>
      You can't escape it. Everywhere there are screens, pictures,
images, sounds. They won't let you be alone. America is scared of
being alone.
    </p>
      <source>From SHADE #5: "Hollywood Babble On"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q216">
    <p>
      "But a camera's just a machine. It can't have the madness. That
doesn't make sense."
    </p>
    <p>
      "If it made sense it wouldn't be the madness, would it?"
    </p>
      <source>Kathy and Shade, in SHADE #6: "Hollywood Babble On II"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q217">
    <p>
      I <em>must</em> keep a clear head. If I'm to survive with my
mind intact, I must put my queer shoulder firmly to the wheel of
objectivity.
    </p>
      <source>Crispen Keen, in SHADE #6: "Hollywood Babble On II"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q218">
    <p>
      All the years the public lived vicariously through film, now
they're living it. But life isn't like film. Life's got too many plot
defects. Whom to blame? Who's the director, the
<foreign>auteur</foreign> of life? Who writes these utterly absurd
screenplays? God? But God doesn't exist. And if he does he's more
Godard than Spielberg.
    </p>
      <source>Crispen Keen, in SHADE #6: "Hollywood Babble On II"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q219">
    <p>
      Guess this changes things, though. If inanimate objects can get
the madness... an insane coffee cup. A schizophrenic shirt...
    </p>
      <source>Shade, in SHADE #6: "Hollywood Babble On II"</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q220">
    <p>
      "Nice tits, by the way."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Jesus, we got a date with Oscar Wilde..."
    </p>
      <source>Shade and a post-modern prostitute, in SHADE #64</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q221">
    <p>
      "I think she looks the type that will see through the whole
charade."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Yeah. We're just visible signs of his inner trepidation coupled
with a fear of commitment..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Excuse me! I said, excuse me! Prostitutes! Ladies of the night!
Streetwalkers! I'm talking to you!"
    </p>
      <source>Two post-modern prostitutes and Shade, in SHADE #64</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q222">
    <p>
      So that's two bottles of bourbon, twenty beers and four clubs to
room one oh one... and if it isn't here in fifteen minutes we'll set
fire to the hotel.
    </p>
      <source>Andrea Merdoch ordering from room service in SHADE #64</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q223">
    <p>
      "You mean you want to help the people who've been hurt?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Actually, I was thinking more about me and my quality of life.
But if people get helped as a byproduct I can live with it."
    </p>
      <source>Sinita and Shade in SHADE #64</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q224">
    <p>
      Hell... the most awful place you can imagine. Currently under
new management, now guaranteed to be even worse.
    </p>
      <source>STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q225">
    <p>
      "Zzzxxynax (Spit/Drool) Bite-your-dog's-head-off Zznoq?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Here."
    </p>
      <source>Remiel calling attendance in Hell, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q226">
    <p>
      Earth... the most awful place you can imagine, if you live in
Los Angeles. Other than that, it's pretty neat.
    </p>
      <source>STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q227">
    <p>
      "Hey, here's some more stuff from the Bicentennial! (ahem) 'My
friends, taxes are too high and the government treats us like idiots,
so I'm revolting.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      "At least you had an excuse."
    </p>
      <source>Stanley and his monster, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q228">
    <p>
      "Look, here's a book."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Not another copy of <cite>Jonathan Livingston Seagull</cite>,
is it?"
    </p>
      <source>Stanley and his monster, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q229">
    <p>
      Yum, genuine polyester!
    </p>
      <source>The monster, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q230">
    <p>
      Better get going; your parents still think me imaginary, and I'd
hate to shatter an illusion like that before dinner.
    </p>
      <source>The monster, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q231">
    <p>
      "Take this book back to my room, and <em>don't eat it</em>!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Stanley, you wound me. I already have this delicious stack of
<cite>National Geographics</cite>, thank you."
    </p>
      <source>Stanley and his monster, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q232">
    <p>
      "Great! Tomorrow we find the right tree!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "What're our criteria?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "One you won't break."
    </p>
      <source>Stanley and his monster, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q233">
    <p>
      "Hell sounds like a very silly place. Don't you miss it?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No. Not even a little, Stanley. You see, we'd... play tricks on
each other all the time... but nobody was your friend. Not really.
Nobody was <em>anybody's</em> friend."
    </p>
      <source>The monster reminiscing, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q234">
    <p>
      That is <em>quite</em> enough. I mean really, Stanley, I'm
afraid you've exceeded your special effects budget for this entire
month. Not to mention the casting calls I've had to sit through. I'm
afraid that you'll be dreaming about the ocean for the next several
weeks. I happen to have a lot of it in stock. Perhaps it will calm you
down. Good night.
    </p>
      <source>Morpheus, Lord of Dreams, makes a nicely characterized guest appearance in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q235">
    <p>
      "So what's so bad about her?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "To answer that, Stanley, I'd have to tell you about the birds
and the bees... and the chainsaws, and the weasels, and the icepicks,
and the acid, and the..."
    </p>
      <source>The monster's introduction to his lady-love Nyx, on the cover of STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q236">
    <p>
      "Aha! I knew I'd find you here!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Huh? Well, good for you. Now it's your turn to hide."
    </p>
      <source>Weevil Dendrite and Ambrose Bierce in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q237">
    <p>
      "'Disreputable Urban Magicians and Sorcerors Union' Oh...sorry."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Ah, s'not your fault. You learn the basics, have a hideous
experience in a graveyard, they give you a trenchcoat and steal your
razor. Like an assembly line, really."
    </p>
      <source>Weevil Dendrite and Ambrose Bierce in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q238">
    <p>
      I've created my own form of divination. One that allows me to
capture the currents of chaos in mid-motion and study the fluxes
themselves. I call it-- JELLOMANCY!
    </p>
      <source>Weevil Dendrite explains his magic, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q239">
    <p>
      "And you're a rhymer now. How... nice."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Like it? Actually I'm still just apprenticing. They've been
starting me off slow. Enchantments, prophecies of doom, greeting
cards, stuff like that."
    </p>
      <source>The monster and Nyx, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q240">
    <p>
      You'll die gloriously, I promise you. Well, actually, you're
going to die slowly and painfully, but it's nothing a little editing
won't fix.
    </p>
      <source>A battle-enraged Nyx, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q241">
    <p>
      Luckily, every good story is allowed one astounding coincidence.
The writer has decided to cash his in now.
    </p>
      <source>In Phil Foglio's STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q242">
    <p>
      That does it! I cannot understand why everybody speaks so well
of 'subtlety.' It never works, I don't know why I even try anymore!!
Now!! Tell me, mortal scum, where is he?!
    </p>
      <source>Nyx throws in the towel, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q243">
    <p>
      "Yes, that hideous thing that looked like my wife!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "<em>I beg your pardon?!</em>"
    </p>
    <p>
      "But Sheila, I didn't... I mean, she really was lovely--"
    </p>
    <p>
      "<em>Is</em> <em>that</em> <em>so</em>?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "But it was a hideous evil sort of lovely!"
    </p>
      <source>Wedded bliss, in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q244">
    <p>
      "But what did they call you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Big-shaggy-red-spirit-dog-who-protects-village.' It's not like
there were a lot of us around."
    </p>
      <source>Stanley's mother and the monster in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q245">
    <p>
      "I don't think you can fit under the bed."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, there are some ladies who'd tell you otherwise."
    </p>
      <source>Stanley and Ambrose Bierce in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q246">
    <p>
      "Do you happen to know that consciousness is the creature of
rhythm?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, but if you hum a few bars..."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Humf. You are not him."
    </p>
    <p>
      "(Boy, and I thought the the Church of the Sub-Genius was
weird.)"
    </p>
      <source>Stanley's father and a servant of Moxon in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q247">
    <p>
      "Okay, we've got all the ingredients for 'spaghetti'. You know,
I think this would be pretty good if you threw in some turpentine and
a few centipedes."
    </p>
    <p>
      "I think the first time out we should just stick to the recipe."
    </p>
      <source>The monster and Stanley in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q248">
    <p>
      "Where are we, Mr Bierce?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "There are many realms between the spheres of life and death,
Stanley. No magician can explore them all."
    </p>
    <p>
      "You don't know."
    </p>
      <source>Ambrose Bierce and Stanley in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #4</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q249">
    <p>
      "I'll be curious to see what he thinks Hell is."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Garn, I hope he ain't British. Some of that stuff them people
dream up... it's enough to gag a maggot."
    </p>
      <source>Demons awaiting Stanley's arrival in Hell in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #4</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q250">
    <p>
      What kind of theological education are kids getting today?!
    </p>
      <source>An highly-annoyed goofy-looking orange demon in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #4</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q251">
    <p>
      Bar-B-Q sauce? Damnit, Nyx, what do you think that will do, you
ignorant-- Uh-oh. Oh no! Cerberus? Buddy? Good dog?
    </p>
      <source>Glyfford gets a sinking feeling in STANLEY AND HIS MONSTER #4</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q252">
    <p>
      I'm here for the FBI, not the <cite>Weekly World News</cite>.
    </p>
      <source>Scully in X-FILES #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q253">
    <p>
      "That isn't the real Shroud of Turin, is it?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "No, Agent Mulder. Just a replica. I keep the original in the
basement, next to the Holy Grail."
    </p>
      <source>Mulder and Mr. Newton in X-FILES #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q254">
    <p>
      "You're off the case! Go chase Bigfoot!
    </p>
    <p>
      "I'd love to, Sir, but with all due respect, the season is
wrong. Bigfoot sightings taper off in the winter. Unless you were
suggesting I go to China, where reports of a beast-man are..."
    </p>
      <source>The Smoking Man and Mulder in X-FILES #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q255">
    <p>
      Mulder! We are not alone!
    </p>
      <source>Scully in X-FILES #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q256">
    <p>
      "Everyone else got to read the Fatima prophecy... and all I got
was this lousy T-shirt." Thanks. I'll treasure it always.
    </p>
      <source>Mulder gets a Christmas gift from Scully in X-FILES #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q257">
    <p>
      It would be such a relief to think my sister's happy, but when I
look up at the heavens, all I see are the stars.
    </p>
      <source>Mulder in X-FILES #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q258">
    <p>
      "Hey, Mulder... how was therapy?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pretty good. Today I remembered getting my first library card.
Unfortunately, the name on it was Hans Holzer."
    </p>
      <source>Scully and Mulder reassemble their memories in X-FILES #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q259">
    <p>
      "Ah, you remember our names, Mulder. Recovering?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Still some gaps, Byers. The phrase 'Rosebud' rings a bell, but
I can't place it."
    </p>
      <source>Mulder and Byers, in X-FILES #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q260">
    <p>
      "You know, when we heard you'd debunked Neola, we were afraid
you'd gone over to the other side."
    </p>
    <p>
      "Nah -- the hours stink but the pay's good."
    </p>
      <source>Frohike and Mulder, in X-FILES #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q261">
    <p>
      "Congratulations. You're finally meeting one of those magical
creatures you've spent so much time looking for. "
    </p>
    <p>
      "Funny... you don't look like a leprechaun, Lieutenant Colonel
Dunne."
    </p>
      <source>Dunne and Mulder in X-FILES #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q262">
    <p>
      "Mulder... this disk wouldn't contain Pentagon access codes,
would it?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Actually it's Doom II. You know how the Bureau frowns on
computer games."
    </p>
      <source>Scully and Mulder in X-FILES #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q263">
    <p>
      Now that you're dead, Mulder and Scully and Drake, as dead as
the trees in December, maybe you can understand what it is that I am.
    </p>
      <source>The narrator, in X-FILES #7</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q264">
    <p>
      Our friend believes that, unlike us working stiffs, he lives
backwards and forwards in time.
    </p>
      <source>Mulder, in X-FILES #7</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q265">
    <p>
      And all the while, the computers dreamed of zeroes and ones --
unable to imagine a two.
    </p>
      <source>The narrator, in X-FILES #7</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q266">
    <p>
      "Who are you?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh, pardon me ... Zachary T. Paleozogt, at your service. But
you can call me Zot!"
    </p>
      <source>Jenny and Zot, in ZOT! #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q267">
    <p>
      Welcome, one and all, to the far-flung future of -- 1965!
    </p>
      <source>Zot, in ZOT! #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q268">
    <p>
      "Aww, c'mon! Where's your sense of fun?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "I'm the standard model, Zachary. 'Fun' was optional."
    </p>
      <source>Zot and Peabody, in ZOT! #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q269">
    <p>
      Guards! Guards! Stop this madman! He's turning everyone into
monkeys!
    </p>
      <source>A sudden intrusion, in ZOT! #1</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q270">
    <p>
      "My, how you've grown!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "C'mon, it's only been a week and a half!"
    </p>
      <source>Uncle Max and Zot, in ZOT! #2</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q271">
    <p>
      "How about you -- what're you up to?"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Issue #3."
    </p>
      <source>Vic and Zot, in ZOT! #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q272">
    <p>
      Y'see, I figure I've got two choices at my stage. I can try to
make my world grow bigger, or I can let it get smaller -- and if I
don't do the one then the other's gonna happen in time...
    </p>
      <source>Uncle Max, in ZOT! #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q273">
    <p>
      I'm sorry I became abusive just now ... calling you worms... I
was just speaking relatively, you understand.
    </p>
      <source>Dekko, in ZOT! #3</source>
  </quotation>
  <quotation id="q274">
    <p>
      "Ah, the stench of evil is about this place!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "Actually, I think that's air-freshener."
    </p>
      <source>Prince Drufus and Vic, in ZOT! #4</source>
  </quotation>
</quotations>