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8 days ago
Current Can confirm, Majora profile is full of bunnies. It's hoppin' in there.
10 days ago
Happy Columbus Day!
17 days ago
Ah, the classic celebrity death but not actually dead reportage. Fake News. Seriously though, pulling for Tom to make it through!!!
20 days ago
Deleted my whole email inbox for the first time. It looks so beautiful.
3 mos ago
my hand is a dolphin


I love quotes. So, here's a bunch of quotes and passages.

“Evil is evil, Stregobor,” said the witcher seriously as he got up. “Lesser, greater, middling, it's all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I’m not a pious hermit. I haven't done only good in my life. But if I’m to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all.”

The Last Wish

“Tell me, Tool, what dominates your thoughts?'
The Imass shrugged before replying.
'I think of futility, Adjunct.'
'Do all Imass think about futility?'
'No. Few think at all.'
'Why is that?'
The Imass leaned his head to one side and regarded her.
'Because Adjunct, it is futile.”

Gardens of the Moon

“Dear friend…'

The Witcher swore quietly, looking at the sharp, angular, even runes drawn with energetic sweeps of the pen, faultlessly reflecting the author’s mood. He felt once again the desire to try to bite his own backside in fury. When he was writing to the sorceress a month ago he had spent two nights in a row contemplating how best to begin. Finally, he had decided on “Dear friend.” Now he had his just deserts.

'Dear friend, your unexpected letter – which I received not quite three years after we last saw each other – has given me much joy. My joy is all the greater as various rumours have been circulating about your sudden and violent death. It is a good thing that you have decided to disclaim them by writing to me; it is a good thing, too, that you are doing so so soon. From your letter it appears that you have lived a peaceful, wonderfully boring life, devoid of all sensation. These days such a life is a real privilege, dear friend, and I am happy that you have managed to achieve it.

I was touched by the sudden concern which you deigned to show as to my health, dear friend. I hasten with the news that, yes, I now feel well; the period of indisposition is behind me, I have dealt with the difficulties, the description of which I shall not bore you with. It worries and troubles me very much that the unexpected present you received from Fate brings you worries. Your supposition that this requires professional help is absolutely correct. Although your description of the difficulty – quite understandably – is enigmatic, I am sure I know the Source of the problem. And I agree with your opinion that the help of yet another magician is absolutely necessary. I feel honoured to be the second to whom you turn. What have I done to deserve to be so high on your list?

Rest assured, my dear friend; and if you had the intention of supplicating the help of additional magicians, abandon it because there is no need. I leave without delay, and go to the place which you indicated in an oblique yet, to me, understandable way. It goes without saying that I leave in absolute secrecy and with great caution. I will surmise the nature of the trouble on the spot and will do all that is in my power to calm the gushing source. I shall try, in so doing, not to appear any worse than other ladies to whom you have turned, are turning or usually turn with your supplications. I am, after all, your dear friend. Your valuable friendship is too important to me to disappoint you, dear friend.

Should you, in the next few years, wish to write to me, do not hesitate for a moment. Your letters invariably give me boundless pleasure.

Your friend Yennefer'

The letter smelled of lilac and gooseberries.

Geralt cursed.”

Blood of Elves

"They'd ride at night up along the western mesa two hours from the ranch and sometimes he'd build a fire and they could see the gaslights at the hacienda gates far below them floating in a pool of black and sometimes the lights seemed to move as if the world down there turned on some other center and they saw stars fall to earth by the hundreds and she told him stories of her father's family and of Mexico. Going back they'd walk the horses into the lake and the horses would stand and drink with the water at their chests and the stars in the lake bobbed and tilted where they drank and if it rained in the mountains the air would be close and the night more warm and one night he left her and rode down along the edge of the lake through the sedge and willow and slid from the horses back and pulled off his boots and his clothes and walked out into the lake where the moon slid away before him and ducks gabbled out there in the dark.

The water was black and warm and he turned in the lake and spread his arms in the water and the water was so dark and so silky and he watched across the still black surface to where she stood on the shore with the horse and he watched where she stepped from her pooled clothing so pale, so pale, like a chrysalis emerging, and walked into the water. She paused midway to look back. Standing there trembling in the water and not from the cold for there was none.

Do not speak to her. Do not call. When she reached him he held out his hand and she took it. She was so pale in the lake she seemed to be burning. Like foxfire in a darkened wood. That burned cold. Like the moon that burned cold. Her black hair floating on the water about her, falling and floating on the water. She put her other arm about his shoulder and looked toward the moon in the west do not speak to her do not call and then she turned her face up to him. Sweeter for the larceny of time and flesh, sweeter for the betrayal. Nesting cranes that stood singlefooted among the cane on the south shore had pulled their slender beaks from their wingpits to watch. Me quieres? she said. Yes, he said. He said her name. God yes, he said."

All The Pretty Horses

"You've finally found me! Oh, Geralt! I waited all this time! Yes, a terribly long time... We'll stay together now, won't we? Now we'll be together, right? Say it, Geralt! Forever! Say it!"
"Forever, Ciri."
"Yes, just like they said! Geralt! Like they said... I'm your destiny? Say it! I'm your destiny?"
"You're something more, Ciri. Something more."

Sword of Destiny

"He was a long time going to sleep. After a while he turned and looked at the man. His face in the small light streaked with black from the rain like some old world thespian. Can I ask you something? he said.

Yes. Of course.

Are we going to die?

Sometime. Not now."

The Road

“We are little flames poorly sheltered by frail walls against the storm of dissolution and madness, in which we flicker and sometimes almost go out…we creep in upon ourselves and with big eyes stare into the night…and thus we wait for morning.”

All Quiet On The Western Front

“When a man died, there had to be blame. Jimmy Cross understood this. You could blame the war, You could blame the idiots who made the war. You could blame Kiowa for going to it. You could blame the rain. You could blame the river. You could blame the field, the mud, the climate. You could blame the enemy. You could blame the mortar rounds. You could blame people who were too lazy to read a newspaper, who were bored by the daily body counts, who switched channels at the mention of politics. You could blame whole nations. You could blame God. You could blame the munitions makers or Karl Marx or a trick of fate of an old man in Omaha who forgot to vote.”

The Things They Carried

“When I lost my sight, Werner, people said I was brave. When my father left, people said I was brave. But it is not bravery; I have no choice. I wake up and live my life. Don't you do the same?”

All The Light We Cannot See

“I’ve fought in three campaigns,” he began. “In seven pitched battles. In countless raids and skirmishes and desperate defences, and bloody actions of every kind. I’ve fought in the driving snow, the blasting wind, the middle of the night. I’ve been fighting all my life, one enemy or another, one friend or another. I’ve known little else. I’ve seen men killed for a word, for a look, for nothing at all. A woman tried to stab me once for killing her husband, and I threw her down a well. And that’s far from the worst of it. Life used to be cheap as dirt to me. Cheaper.

“I’ve fought ten single combats and I won them all, but I fought on the wrong side and for all the wrong reasons. I’ve been ruthless, and brutal, and a coward. I’ve stabbed men in the back, burned them, drowned them, crushed them with rocks, killed them asleep, unarmed, or running away. I’ve run away myself more than once. I’ve pissed myself with fear. I’ve begged for my life. I’ve been wounded, often, and badly, and screamed and cried like a baby whose mother took her tit away. I’ve no doubt the world would be a better place if I’d been killed years ago, but I haven’t been, and I don’t know why.”

He looked down at his hands, pink and clean on the stone. “There are few men with more blood on their hands than me. None, that I know of. The Bloody-Nine they call me, my enemies, and there’s a lot of ’em. Always more enemies, and fewer friends. Blood gets you nothing but more blood. It follows me now, always, like my shadow, and like my shadow I can never be free of it. I should never be free of it. I’ve earned it. I’ve deserved it. I’ve sought it out. Such is my punishment.”

The Blade Itself

“However...," Satan said.
Bick sighed. "However, I didn't count on the growing interference of lawyers, regulators, bureaucrats and politicians into my business. I swear it seems that every year they stick their noses into more and more."
Lucifer chuckled. "Sorry about that-I outdid myself there.”

The Six-Gun Tarot

“You can look at a picture for a week and never think of it again. You can also look at a picture for a second and think of it all your life”

The Goldfinch

“Back then, when everybody thought the world would last forever, nobody had time for anything.”

The Leftovers

“All of them, all except Phineas, constructed at infinite cost to themselves these Maginot Lines against this enemy they thought they saw across the frontier, this enemy who never attacked that way-if he ever attacked at all; if he was indeed the enemy.”

A Separate Peace

“It seemed clear that wars were not made by generations and their special stupidities, but that wars were made instead by something ignorant in the human heart”

A Separate Peace

“Nothing endures. Not a tree. Not love. Not even death by violence.”

A Separate Peace

"Summon the bitches."

The Witcher III

Most Recent Posts

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

And I'm in danger of attributing that crazy to the left in general, because I generalize, so apologies in advance if I wind up getting there.

Never apologize, that's what the media wants you to do in an effort to control you. FIGHT THE POWER.
I played WoW for a few days. Got to level ten as a Tauren and a Night Elf. Vanilla WoW, that is. Haven't played since, mostly because my broken arm healed and I never looked back. MMOs have never been my cup of tea. Did enjoy myself for a little bit, anyway.

Starcraft: Brood War is my preferred game. GOLIATH ONLINE. I suck at the actual game tho, I just do UMS stuff.
@Dark Wind I assume you read them in English? I was always kind of hesitant to read them because they'd be translations and some of the storytelling flair would be lost when transferred to English.

I did. I have no doubt that there is probably something lost within the translations. Even still, the writing is top tier.
@POOHEAD189 If you want to have a go with mind theories, just explore the Brain in a vat theory.

Addition: I think I had a debate with someone about this here once. It was about truth being subjective or objective. My statement is that the truth is always objective, personal truths aren't really truths so much as they are perspectives/opinions. And, the proof of objective truth is the simple and inarguable premise that somewhere there is existence. We may be figments of an imagination, but there has to be an imaginer beyond that.

And that's all there is to that, lol, way to get me going on philosophy.
Fiction: Fantasy

Baptism of Fire (Third in the Witcher Saga) by Andrzej Sapkowski -- A continuation of the previous excellence in The Time of Contempt (#2) and Blood of Elves (#1). Really, as far as anti-hero grey morality fantasy narratives go, these books are the best. They have the flavor of traditional fantasy twisted into something different. It takes the pristine picture of honor and heroism but shows chinks in the armor, a rot festering underneath. To summarize, it's about a monster hunter who encounters various different problems revolving around a girl he raised and took in as his own daughter by the name of Ciri. He needs to find her, and he's going to do all the things he needs to do to get her back. The plots are simple in these books, but the characters and their characterizations are perhaps the finest pieces of fantasy literature I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing. If you want to be moved by Sapkowski's brilliant understanding of the full range that the human condition displays, then look no further. Read them all. READ THEM ALLLLLLL.

Note: Obviously I hate the Witcher.

That's not really the point of that meme headline. Do you need a snickers, Dynamo?

Amazing what a decade can bring.
Presidents, like police officers, should be held to a certain standard.

And as far as I'm concerned, Trump held up to his end of that bargain with his original condemnations with regards to Charlottesville. I have no patience for pseudo-moralistic outrage or the non-existent standard of virtue upon which the vast majority of establishment politicians and partisan media members shriek their pontificated nonsense.
<Snipped quote by Penny>

Seven, to be precise

Let's hope we get Roy Moore after that.

I didn't say you did, I said you sounded similar. Hillary, being that she's a recent losing candidate and almost the first female president of the United States, holds similar clout to her name as our current POTUS. If we want one person to condemn condemn condemn, then she shouldn't be free of the same condemn condemn condemn moral outrage. She, after being ragged, finally did say something. All we ask for is consistency of outrage if we're going to be outraged about people not condemning things.

ADDITION: I also don't blame Obama for George W. Bush's garbage economic choices or for George H.W. Bush's garbage economic choices, or for Bill Clinton's. However, he certainly has a hand in doubling the debt.
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