Quotage

"Fans are clingy complaining dipshits who will never ever be grateful for any concession you make. The moment you shut out their shrill tremulous voices the happier you'll be for it."
- Yahtzee Croshaw


"I just don't want to die without a few scars."
- Chuck Palahniuk


"Bondage is the life of personality, and for bondage the personal self will fight with tireless resourcefulness and the most stubborn cunning."
- Aldous Huxley


"The scientists of today think deeply instead of clearly. One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane."
- Nikola Tesla


"Every man is wise when attacked by a mad dog; fewer when pursued by a mad woman; only the wisest survive when attacked by a mad notion."
- Robertson Davies


"The more I study religions the more I am convinced that man never worshipped anything but himself."
- Sir Richard Francis Burton

Fight Club - Chloe

“ Chloe was the genuine article.
Chloe was the way Joni Mitchell's skeleton would look if you made it smile and walk around a party being extra special nice to everyone. Picture Chloe's popular skeleton the size of an insect, running through the vaults and galleries of her innards at two in the morning. Her pulse a siren overhead, announcing: Prepare for death in ten, in nine, in eight seconds. Death will commence in seven, six . . .
At night, Chloe ran around the maze of her own collapsing veins and burst tubes spraying hot lymph. Nerves surface as trip wires in the tissue. Abscesses swell in the tissue around her as hot white pearls.
The overhead announcement, prepare to evacuate bowels in ten, in nine, eight, seven.
Prepare to evacuate soul in ten, in nine, eight.
Chloe's splashing through the ankle-deep backup of renal fluid from her failed kidneys.
Death will commence in five.
Five, four.
Four.
Around her, parasitic life spray paints her heart.
Four, three.
Three, two.
Chloe climbs hand-over-hand up the curdled lining of her own throat.
Death to commence in three, in two.
Moonlight shines in through the open mouth.
Prepare for the last breath, now.
Evacuate.
Now.
Soul clear of body.
Now.
Death commences.
Now.
Oh, this should be so sweet, the remembered warm jumble of Chloe still in my arms and Chloe dead somewhere.
Oh, this should be so sweet. For two years, Chloe's been crying in my arms during hug time, and now she's dead, dead in the ground, dead in an urn, mausoleum, columbarium. Oh, the proof that one day you're thinking and hauling yourself around, and the next, you're cold fertilizer, worm buffet. This is the amazing miracle of death, and it should be so sweet if it weren't for, oh, that one.”
- Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

Fight Club

“ The insomnia was on again, and I was in a mood to destroy something beautiful.
I feel like crap and not relaxed at all. What’s said about being the crap and the slaves of history, that's how I feel. I want to destroy everything beautiful I'll never have. Burn the Amazon rain forests. Pump chlorofluorocarbons straight up to gobble the ozone. I want to kill all the fish I can't afford to eat, and smother the French beaches I'll never see.
I want the whole world to hit bottom.
I really want to put a bullet between the eyes of every endangered panda that wouldn't screw to save its species and every whale or dolphin that gave up and ran itself aground.
Don't think of this as extinction. Think of this as downsizing.
I want to breathe smoke.
I want to burn the Louvre. I'd do the Elign Marbles with a sledge-hammer and wipe my ass with the Mona Lisa. This is my world now.
This is my world, my world, and those ancient people are dead.


Drunk Drivers Against Mothers
Make Mine Veal
Recycle All the Animals”
- Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club