Alan Moore

Look at him now, poor fellow. That's what a dose of reality does for you...Never touch the stuff myself, you understand. Find it gets in the way of the hallucinations.

Life isn’t divided into genres. It’s a horrifying, romantic, tragic, comical, science-fiction cowboy detective novel. You know, with a bit of pornography if you’re lucky.

There is no coincidence. Only the illusion of coincidence.

<b>Dr. Malcolm Long:</b> Walter, is what happened to Kitty Genovese really proof that the whole of mankind is rotten? I think you've been conditioned with a negative worldview. There are good people, too, like...

<b>Rorschach:</b> Like you?

<b>Dr. Malcolm Long:</b> Me? Oh, well, I wouldn't say that. I...

<b>Rorschach:</b> No. You just think it. Think you're 'good people'. Why are you spending so much time with me, Doctor?

<b>Dr. Malcolm Long:</b> Uh...well, because I care about you, and because I want to make you well...

<b>Rorschach:</b> Other people, down in cells. Behavior more extreme than mine. You don't spend any time with them...but then, they're not famous. Won't get your name in the journals. You don't want to make me well. Just want to know what makes me sick. You'll find out. Have patience, Doctor. You'll find out.

The Rudderless World is not shaped by vague metaphysical Forces. It is not God who kills the Children. Not Fate that butchers them or Destiny that feeds them to the Dogs. ... It´s us. Only us.

Affected most, they understand the least...

Anarchy wears two faces, both creator and destroyer. Thus destroyers topple empires; make a canvas of clean rubble where creators then can build another world. Rubble, once achieved, makes further ruins' means irrelevant.

Away with our explosives, then!

Away with our destroyers! They have no place within our better world.
But let us raise a toast to all our bombers, all our bastards, most unlovely and most unforgivable.

Let's drink their health... then meet with them no more.

There's no flesh or blood within this cloak to kill. There's only an idea. Ideas are bulletproof.

Things have their shape in time, not space alone. Some marble blocks have statues within them, embedded in their future.

I shall tell you where we are. We're in the most extreme and utter region of the human mind. A dim, subconscious underworld. A radiant abyss where men meet themselves. Hell, Netley. We're in Hell.

Crazed with helplessness, I cursed God and wept, wondering if He wept also. But then, what use are His tears, if His help was denied me?

strength to unity unity through faith

Please don't worry. It's a psychological complaint, common amongst ex-librarians. You see, she thinks she's a coffee table edition...

VI VERI VENIVERSUM VIVUS VICI.
<i>By the Power of Truth, I, while living, have Conquered the Universe.</i>

I'm the idea of the human imagination, which, when you think about it, is the only thing we can really be certain ISN'T imaginary.