Mcsweeney s Quotes

“… in these new days and in these new pages a philosophical tradition of the spontaneity of speculation kind has been rekindled on the sacred isle of Éire, regardless of its creative custodian never having been taught how to freely speculate, how to profoundly question, and how to playfully define. Spontaneity of speculation being synonymous with the philosophical-poetic, the philosophical-poetic with the rural philosopher-poet, and by roundelay the rural philosopher-poet thee with the spontaneity of speculation be. And by the way of the rural what may we say? A philosopher-poet of illimitable space we say. Iohannes Scottus Ériugena the metaphor of old salutes you; salutes your lyrical ear and your skilful strumming of the rippling harp. (Source: Hearing in the Write, Canto 19, Ivy-muffled)”

“The night is about to lull everything and everyone to sleep. I stretch myself at the window and open it so that the books can breathe fresh damp air. I suspect that books need to breathe like people, and I think they tolerate damp better than people say. There is no doubt that they stare rather sadly at the trees out in the garden, as if they have a vague recollection of relationship with them, and sighs are borne from the pages to the damp trunks and branches.I begin to sigh too, for I feel that people are like trees that move, trees that have lost their roots and are always in search of the soil. I have a hazy idea that humans have come from trees that broke off from their roots in a wild whirlwind eons ago - that is my thory of evolution.”

“The Pleiades and northern lights are still above the mountain. The mountain is in the east, and on its slopes there are reindeer. Reindeer always remind me of trees that have taken to moving. They remind me even more of trees than people do. In the distant past, reindeer were trees as people were, but they haven't come such a long way from their origins, and the branches can be seen although they no longer bear leaves.I have my bedtime book in my hand and my pocket light and walk toward the mountain over the edges of the moorland in rubber boots. The book is a relative of mine, I feel; it is made out of trees and human thought, and thus the relationship becomes twofold. These are ancient poems that I am taking to the mountains and the reindeer.”

“Tears fled her eyes as she ran, and they slid into her ears, but she did not wipe them, no, she pressed forward through the many trees, keeping her eyes upon the large shadow that flew forward, almost guiding her out of the woods, but that was preposterous – so why am I following it?What do you mean why are you following it? It’s the only thing that’s putting distance between you and those...monsters back there!But what about Lord Delacroix?What the devil about him?He tried to keep you safe – he truly did attempt to save you—And what did that get him? Crushed by a damned Lycan – again!But I should still go back to save him....I should keep moving!But he’s saved my life – I can’t let him die!Technically, he’s already dead, Alexi....Goddamn it all!Run – run now – come back when you’re safe!Come back? With who?!Help, of course!Where on Earth am I going to find help?!”

“Kadyn groaned. “I cannot believe this. I’m on lockdown over here, Patrick. I can’t leave.”“I know,” Patrick responded. “I’ve seen the news.” Patrick lowered his voice to a whisper. “You don’t think there’s a connection, do you?”Kadyn’s eyes locked on Phil’s as he collapsed into the chair across from Phil’s desk. “Kri has a stalker with terrorist connections, the Pentagon has been peppered with bombs, and Kri’s gone missing. Of course there’s a connection.”

“Sun and snow is an Angel’s glow, but storm and rain? That’s a Demon’s bane.”

“I like to judge people and it was clear to me that Colin’s life has been about as exciting as a cluster headache. You can tell this just from his humour tumour which runs through every conversation you have with him. I got the impression that Colin had arrived at his early fifties resenting the fact that he’s spent his entire career worshiping at the altar of Dynasty PLC. But he is now so indoctrinated by the world of corporate banking that he’s forgotten how to express the real him. This is what a life working for large corporations does to people. The workplace is a place not to be you”

“It’s called ”being an artist” for a reason”

“Sometimes it’s about knowing people, all of the time, it’s about knowing God!”

“It’s never the value of water but thirst, it’s never the value of life but death and it’s never about the friendship but trust.”