Shane: "Bro," he said, in an injured tone, "I had to go out with a flamethrower, and you weren't there to see it." Michael: "Pics or it didn't happen." Shane: "Dude, little busy for pics. You know, throwing flame." - Black Dawn
Personally, I think so-called "common language" is more interesting and apropos than "proper English"; it's passionate and powerful in ways that "wherefore art thou ass and thy elbow" just isn't.
The next time someone pesters you with unneeded advice, gently remind him of the fate of the monk whom Ivan the Terrible put to death for delivering uninvited (and moralizing) advice. It works as a short-term cure.
You can only look forward to a South Dakota winter if, as with childbirth, remodeling a house, or writing a novel, you're able to forget how bad it was the last time.
Morris chopped off the girl's hand with a hatchet then guttered laughter. The poor mulato wailed, her stump pumping. "What'choo do that for!" Cutton bellowed. He hadn't even gotten his trousers off before Morris had pulled this move.
I first learned that there were black people living in some place called other than the United States in the western hemisphere when I was a very little boy, and my father told me that when he was a boy about my age, he wanted to be an Episcopal prie...
I myself saw the great works of Western civilization for the first time in my high school in Lithuania in bad black-and-white reproductions on miserable paper. That was, for many years, what art was for me. But from those miserable black-and-white re...
I dug up some old John Buscema 'Conan' comics. Man, when Alfredo Alcala was inking, that was some of the most beautiful black and white comic art ever published. The stories are good, too, though early '70s comics based on Conan is a festival of sexi...
Fairy tales thrive on black and white. In life, there’s only grey – no bad guys, no good guys. You could be the Cheshire cat, Snow White, a troll or a pastry-making witch whose diet consists only of little kids, but you’ll always be you.
Black Magick is the process of self-transformation through an antinomian initiatory structure, Black meaning the hidden wisdom, power of darkness, dreams and staging the reality you wish and Magick being the process to ascend, become immortal in spir...
Sometimes I'm a black. Not everyone realizes blackness has to be conferred upon you again and again. It's like getting your nails done. Or being pantsed. People assume I'm cool.
Yes, women have always had secrets and always will. I'm afraid men would be very distressed to learn what their darlings were thinking. Frankly, I don't think men are strong enough to bear the shock.
One ever feels his twoness, -- an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose strenth alone keeps it from being torn asunder.
He was your usual man when it came to romance, which is to say he couldn’t recite Baa Baa Black Sheep when sober, whereas when drunk, sixteen cantos of Byron’s Don Juan was par for the course.
Miles was still mourning the loss of his Romantic Plan. 'There was going to be champagne, and oysters, and you' -- he held out both hands as though shifting a piece of furniture -- 'were going to be sitting there, and I was going to get down on one k...
As my future crumbled before my eyes, I grasped for the rope. My entire life's struggle was ending here, in plain view of my enemies. How was it possible? Had had I let things come to this?
He traced a line in the dirt with his toe. ‘This is a battlefield. Has been since Cain killed Abel. And don’t let it get complicated. Gray it ain’t. It’s black and white. Good versus evil. You might as well choose sides right now.
When I die, nieces, I want to be cremated, my ashes taken up in a bush plane and sprinkled onto the people in town below. Let them think my body is snowflakes, sticking in their hair and on their shoulders like dandruff.
And me, standing under the splintered night, catching fractured glimpses into the black behind the black, hearing the prayers of stars, the angry whispers of the dark summer night. Its voice cracks, on your name. My eyes close, on your name.
I only snatched him to get your attention,” I said. “Now that I’ve got it, this is what I want.” “Damn my dame!” Al shouted, hands raised to the ceiling. “I knew it! Not another list!
There are a lot of black-hearted, mean-spirited bastards in the world. It's important that we hold them to acount. But always remember that might be the most black-hearted and mean-spirited in the lot, so hold yourself the most accountable of all.
