Given a choice between life and death, choose life. Given a choice between right and wrong, choose what’s right. And given a choice between a terrible truth and a beautiful lie, choose the truth every time.
Alive or dead, the truth won’t rest. Rise up while you can.
George, she says it’s the truth that matters. We live and die for the chance to maybe tell a little bit of the truth, maybe shame the Devil just a little bit before we go.
It is what it is. Isn’t that how these things always go? They are what they are. We just get to cope.
Behold the power of the truth. When people see its shadow on the wall, they don’t want to take the time to look away.
She told the truth as she saw it, and she died for it. I came along for the ride, and I lived. It wasn’t worth it. But it was the truth, and it was what had to happen.
Nothing is impossible to kill. It’s just that sometimes after you kill something you have to keep shooting it until it stops moving
Think about that for a moment. They died for you. Now take a good look at the life you’re living and tell me: Did they do the right thing?
Nothing says “deeply in mourning” like canapés and free beer.
I was tired of being a haunted house’ he said. ‘Thank you for coming home.
Hire new field systems maintainer” was near the top of my to-do list, right under “uncover massive political conspiracy,” “avenge Buffy’s death,” and “don’t die.
…but that was the thing about reality. It didn’t need to make sense.
This is crap,” Shaun said, withdrawing his arm.”Right,” I agreed. “Absolutely fucking crap.””No argument.””I want to punch somebody right about now.””Not it,” Rick said.”I punch back,” Steve said.
One man’s gospel truth is another man’s blasphemous lie. The dangerous thing about people is the way we’ll try to kill anyone whose truth doesn’t agree with ours.
My mother once told me that no woman is naked when she comes equipped with a bad mood and a steady glare.
I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter what we wanted. What matters is what we chose to do with the things we had.
Everything is ‘just a story’. Tragedy, comedy, end of the world, what ever it’s just a story. What matters is making sure it’s heard.
We were the ones on scene when everything went down. We weren’t better. We weren’t worse. We were just the ones standing in the blast radius.
Speak English at this table or I will fire you so fast you’ll wind up standing at the airport wondering how you got from here to there without any goddamn pants on.
When the corruption seems to go all the way to the end of the world, the only good approach is through the front door with a gun in each hand.
People blame science. Shit, man, people shouldn’t blame science. People should blame people.
You can’t win. Logic has no power over her when her territory has been invaded by heathens.
There is nothing truer in this world than the love of a good dog.
It’s better to go out with a bang and a press release than with a whimper and a secret.
The truth may set you free. It won’t fill your fuel tank.
Seriously, that woman is so much crazy crammed into a small space that she’s practically a crazy singularity.
I just find it interesting that kids apparently used to cry when Bambi’s mother died. George and I both held our breaths, and then cheered when she didn’t reanimate and try to eat her son.
And then everything was in the hands of gravity, which has never had much love for the terminally stupid.
There is nothing so patient, in this world or any other, as a virus searching for a host.
I just don’t understand why anyone would want to get their caffeine in a less-efficient form.
…brains are the only things that stand between a living person and a gruesome death. Or maybe brains and Kevlar.
We are in the middle of what looks increasingly like the zombie apocalypse. Moaning people don’t need help. Moaning people are intending to eat us.
And to those who would choose the safety of inaction over the danger of taking a stand, I have this to say:You bloody cowards. May you have the world that you deserve.
If you want to go foraging into the wilds of Canada without proper gear, you deserve what you get, even if that happens to include being attacked by an undead moose.
May posterity show mercy when it look back upon the work we do today. We did what we could with what we had.