[b]Neil Gaiman
You could fire a machine gun randomly through the pages of Lord of the Rings and never hit any women.[/b]
1] is this true
2] if so, why does it matter?
I only met Mad Sweeney twice, alive, he said. The first time I thought he was a world-class jerk with the devil in him. The second time I thought he was a major fuckup and I gave him the money to kill himself. He showed me a coin trick I don’t remember how to do, gave me some bruises, and claimed he was a leprechaun. Rest in peace, Mad Sweeney.
Hear! Hear!
Change. Change. Change. Change … change. Change. Chaaange. When you say words a lot they don’t mean anything. Or maybe they don’t mean anything anyway, and we just think they do.
[i]Or:
Dasein. Dasein. Dasein. Dasein…Dasein. Dasein. Dasssein. When you say words a lot they don’t mean anything. Or maybe they don’t mean anything anyway, and we just think they do.
How’d this go for you?[/i]
Rain in the graveyard, and the world puddled into blurred reflections.
Never needed rain for that, he thought. Let alone in the graveyard.
It was a dream, and in dreams you have no choices: either there are no decisions to be made, or they were made for you long before ever the dream began.
Why stop there? If you get my drift.
I will be a wise and tolerant monarch, dispensing justice fairly, and only setting nightmares to rip out the winds of the evil and the wicked. Or just anybody that I don’t like.
After all, who’s gonna stop him?