Post by sepherene on Aug 15, 2012 21:01:31 GMT -5
I'm highlighting some of my favorite quotes from the book as I read through. I figured I'd share them (thus far) and you can share your own. c:
God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of his own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players, to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.
For every mad scientist who's had a convenient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor clocks overtime.
No particularly demonic thoughts were going through his head. In fact, he was currently wondering vaguely who Moey and Chandon were.
One of the nice things about Time, Crowley always said, was that it was steadily taking him away from the fourteen century, the most bloody boring hundred years on God's, excuse his French, Earth.
"Yeah, Deeds." said Crowley, with the slightly guilty look of one who is attending church for the first time in years and has forgotten which bits you stand up for.
Offer people a new creed and costume and their hearts and minds will follow.
It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the triumphs and tragedies of history are causes, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.
They were born into a world that was against them in a thousand little ways, and then devoted most of their energies to making it worse.
That Hieronymus Bosch. What a weirdo.
Aziraphale. The Enemy, of course. But an enemy for six thousand years now, which made him sort of a friend.
Being a demon, of course, was suppose to mean you had no free will. But you couldn't hang around humans very long without learning a thing or two.
God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of his own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players, to being involved in an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.
For every mad scientist who's had a convenient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor clocks overtime.
No particularly demonic thoughts were going through his head. In fact, he was currently wondering vaguely who Moey and Chandon were.
One of the nice things about Time, Crowley always said, was that it was steadily taking him away from the fourteen century, the most bloody boring hundred years on God's, excuse his French, Earth.
"Yeah, Deeds." said Crowley, with the slightly guilty look of one who is attending church for the first time in years and has forgotten which bits you stand up for.
Offer people a new creed and costume and their hearts and minds will follow.
It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the triumphs and tragedies of history are causes, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.
They were born into a world that was against them in a thousand little ways, and then devoted most of their energies to making it worse.
That Hieronymus Bosch. What a weirdo.
Aziraphale. The Enemy, of course. But an enemy for six thousand years now, which made him sort of a friend.
Being a demon, of course, was suppose to mean you had no free will. But you couldn't hang around humans very long without learning a thing or two.