There are those hearts, reader, that never mend again once they are broken. Or, if they do mend, they heal themselves in a crooked and lopsided way, as if sewn together by a careless craftsman.
At first, I thought they handed me the wrong dossier. I couldn't believe they wanted this man dead. Third generation West Point, top of his class. Korea, Airborne. About a thousand decorations, etcetera, etcetera. I had heard his voice on the tape and it really put the hook in me. But I couldn't connect up that voice with this man. Like they said, he had an impressive career, maybe too impressive; I mean perfect. He was being groomed for one of the top slots in the corporation: General, Chief of Staff, anything. In 1964, he returned from a tour with advisory command in Vietnam and things started to slip. His report to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and Lyndon Johnson was restricted. It seems they didn't dig what he had to tell 'em.
—Willard, Apocalypse Now
There in lies the path to Hell. Edw- Caesar needed me to translate. Translation became giving orders. Giving orders became leading into battle. Leading into battle became training, punishing, terrorising. A series of small mistakes before a great fall. And I stayed in that darkness until after Hoover Dam. Until I failed Caesar and he had me burned alive, and thrown into the Grand Canyon.
"There must have been a moment, at the beginning, where we could have said - no. But somehow we missed it."
—Guildenstern, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead
"One never learns how the witch became wicked, or whether that was the right choice for her - is it ever the right choice? Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil?"
— Oatsie Manglehand, Wicked
All things truly wicked start from an innocence.
— Ernest Hemingway, A Movable Feast
No one becomes depraved all at once.
— Juvenal, Satires
In every man's heart there is a devil, but we do not know the man as bad until the devil is roused.
— James Oliver Curwood, The Case of Beauvais
"Once there was a man named Jack who wanted to find a Vault and become a hero. Things kind of escalated from there."
—Loading Screen of Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel!
Weaver paused in her work and looked around. The harder she looked, the less sense her work made to her. "What is the point," she asked, "in making pattern and form if Wyld changes it and Wyrm destroys it constantly?" Her question echoed in the void, unheeded and unanswered.
She cried out in anguish; her mind fractured. In this way was the Tellurian wounded.
— Werewolf: The Apocalypse - Book Of The Weaver
There was a moment, Che, when the universe slowed. You were on the bed with two women. "Top of the world, ma!" you yelled, flexing in the mirror. Hamburger slapping brick. I was on the floor. The wallpaper patterns... moved... I saw sleepy mouths swallowing planets. I knew, right then, I was where I needed to be.
Every Infernalist, whether he learns the Black Arts or not, reaches a time in his life where goodness seems pathetic. For whatever reason, he feels the hunger of the inner abyss, sees the eyes that surround him in the night, and decides that he was never meant for a life of virtue. Every human being, at some point, hears the Darkness call his name. But while other people wander in the woods a short ways from the fire, the diabolist decides to enter the night unafraid note and see where his instincts take him.
—Mage: The Sorcerer's Crusade - Infernalism