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By AnonymJohn Connolly
What do you believe in?” asked David. “I believe in those whom I love and trust. All else is foolishness. This god is as empty as his church. His followers choose to attribute all of their good fortune to him, but when he ignores their pleas or leaves them to suffer, they say only that he is beyond their understanding and abandon themselves to his will. What kind of god is that?
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By AnonymJohn Connolly
When did you get so clever?" "When I realized I wasn't as clever as I thought.
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By AnonymJohn Connolly
When one encounters enough strangeness, then what is strange ultimately becomes familiar. The mind can accommodate itself to almost anything, given time: pain, grief, loss, even the possibility that the dead talk to the living.
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By AnonymJohn Connolly
Why did you shoot him?" "You weren't around," I replied, my teeth gritted in pain. "If you'd been here I'd have shot you instead.
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By AnonymJohn Connolly
Wickedness never rests easily so, in a way, one might almost feel pity for the wicked, for they are destined to live their lives in fear, in a prison of the heart.
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By AnonymJohn Connolly
You cannot perform acts of evil in the name of a greater good, because the good suffers. It is corrupted by what has been done in its name.
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By AnonymJohn Connolly
You don’t have much faith in people, do you?” said David. “I don’t have much faith in anything,” Roland replied. “Not even in myself.
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By AnonymJohn Connolly
You have to understand that only the very worst end up here: the ones whose anger made them kill, and who felt no sorrow or guilt after the act; those so obsessed with themselves that they turned their backs on the sufferings of others, and left them in pain; those whose greed meant that others starved and died. Such souls belong here, because they would find no peace elsewhere. In this place, they are understood. In this place, their faults have meaning. In this place, they belong.
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By AnonymJohn Connolly
You pay by the hour, even if the job only takes five minutes. I don’t do fractions.
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