The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish, and the tyranny of evil men.
Blessed is he who in the name of charity and goodwill shepards the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brothers keeper and the finder of lost children.
And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger, those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers.
And you will know my name is the LORD, when I lay my vengeance upon thee!
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Minstrel: [singing] Bravely bold Sir Robin, rode forth from Camelot. He was not afraid to die, oh brave Sir Robin. He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways, brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin. He was not in the least bit scared to being mashed into a pulp, or to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken. To have his knee caps split, and his body burned away, and his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Robin. His head smashed in and heart cut out, and his liver removed, and his bowels unplugged, and his nostrils ripped and his bottom burned off and his penis...
Sir Robin: THAT'S, that's quite enough, Minstrel.
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YOU brought her here, YOU stick in the needle! When I bring an OD to your house, I'LL stick in the needle!
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The primacy of the word, basis of the human psyche, that has in our age been used for mind-bending persuasion and brain-washing pulp, disgraced by Gobbles and debased by advertising copy, remains a force for freedom that flies out between all bars.
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The world is full of unrealistic motherfuckers, motherfuckers who thought their asses would age like wine. If that means it turns to vinegar, it does. If that means that it gets better with age, it don't. Besides Butch, how many fights you got left in you anyway, two. There ain't no old-timers league in boxing.
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Pride only hurts. It never helps.
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Ohhh man! I will never forgive your ass for this shit! This is some fucked-up repugnant shit!
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Your in the red zone?!? Well I'm a mushroom-cloud layin mother fucker, mother fucker!
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The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story.
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