William E. Gladstone Quotes

Your time is up. Go now. Don't wait until there has been more death and destruction

The cannon thunders... limbs fly in all directions... one can hear the groans of victims and the howling of those performing the sacrifice... it's Humanity in search of happiness.

Nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole.

The sea is mother-death and she is a mighty female, the one who wins, the one who sucks us all up.

In the end, the Wheel crushes us all.

In the whole vast dome of living nature there reigns an open violence, a kind of prescriptive fury which arms all the creatures to their common doom: as soon as you leave the inanimate kingdom you find the decree of violent death inscribed on the very frontiers of life.

The words ‘I Love You’ kill, and resurrect millions, in less than a second.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if the women don't get you then the whiskey must.

Invader and invaded held on to their fistfuls of earth, but in the end, the earth outlived the hands that held it.

Alas! that my body, clean and whole, never been corrupted, today must be consumed and burnt to ashes!

Kill one man, and you are a murderer. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill them all, and you are a god.

Shiva... is the only hunter that will ever catch the wild swan; The prey she will take last is the wild white swan of the beauty of things. Then she will be alone, pure destruction, achieved and supreme, Empty darkness under the death-tent wings. She will build a nest of the swan's bones and hatch a new brood, Hang new heavens with new birds, all be renewed.

I get a thick book full of death, destruction, strife, and chaos. That's what I take with my morning tea.

The chance of war Is equal, and the slayer oft is slain.

She touches me The jungle lights up with incinerating fire Looks like a flaming serpent I look into her eyes I see a movie flickering Car crashes People kicking corpses Men ripping their tracheas out and shaking them at the sky I think to myself: I don’t want to survive this one I want to burn up in the wreckage Cooking flesh in the jungle

Though amid all the smoking horror and diabolism of a sea-fight, sharks will be seen longingly gazing up to the ship's decks, like hungry dogs round a table where red meat is being carved, ready to bolt down every killed man that is tossed to them.

Carbon made only wants to be unmade.

Film is a battleground. Love, hate, violence, action, death...In a word, emotion.

Time is the best killer.

For these beings, fall is ever the normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth. Such are the autumn people.

For I am every dead thing In whom love wrought new alchemy For his art did express A quintessence even from nothingness, From dull privations, and lean emptiness He ruined me, and I am re-begot Of absence, darkness, death; things which are not.

Poetry creates life; Science dissects death.

Medicine for the dead is too late

Let thy chief terror be of thine own soul: There, 'mid the throng of hurrying desires That trample o'er the dead to seize their spoil, Lurks vengeance, footless, irresistible As exhaltations laden with slow death, And o'er the fairest troop of captured joys Breathes pallid pestilence.

Those who cannot live fully often become destroyers of life.