Michael: There’s nothing here to fear.Lucifer: Well, there’s always the truth.
But you can’t save people from the world.There’s nowhere else to take them
Fear is a serviceable tool, I suppose. Like the stalls in a battery farm. If you want to keep people from their collective strength, make them too afraid of each other to ever meet or talk.
Those heart-hammering nightmares that start to lose coherence even as you’re waking up from them, but that still manage to leave their moldering fingerprints all across your day.
You know what it’s like to *lose* yourself in a story. We have brother and sister *souls*.
Because all the waters of the ocean won’t fill a bucket with a hole in it. And that’s their fall, and that’s their fellowship. Desire. The hole in the bucket: the gulf of yearning into which the soul empties itself.
If I had a box full of all the evils of the world, I’d open it just a little way and push you inside. Then I’d close it again for always.
You know, I’m like Avis rent-a-car: Because I’m insignificant, I try harder.
All stories are lies. But good stories are lies made from light and fire. And they lift our hearts out of the dust, and out of the grave.
You know what pulp is, Mr. Tallis? It’s the flesh of a luscious fruit, mashed down into an incredible, half liquid richness. so saturated with flavor that it fills your whole body, not just your mouth.
We make our own monsters, then fear them for what they show us about ourselves.
No, there are no special places in hell. Hell is a democracy.
I have stared into the light and you are all my shadows.
You move on. You move back. On because you’re always getting older, back because there’s always a set of habits and routines to catch you and suck you back in when your guard is down.
Beliefs are collars to which leashes can be attached
And for Peter… well, sometimes cruelty is kindness in disguise. Sometimes pain is the best teacher. Sometimes it does you no harm to realize that there’s a limit to what you can get away with.