We had hopes of coming out alive. Now that we are defeated, outside that barrack wall the people whom we have tried to emancipate have demonstrated nothing but hatred and contempt for us. We would be better off dead as life would be a torture.
—Con Colbert, Irish rebel, upon learning of the initial public reaction to the 1916 rising
My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?
—Jesus, The Bible
Vivienne: It matters because you [San] might be able to come back, but we [humans] can't. Even if we did get out of here, we can never do what you did with me. There's nothing left of him [Serizawa].
San: nothing?
Vivienne: Nothing! My memories are all I have left of him.
San: nothing?
Vivienne: Nothing! My memories are all I have left of him.
— Vivienne Graham during her Heroic BSoD over Serizawa's death, Abraxas (Hrodvitnon)
Elizabeth: You want to know if Booker would have wanted me to spend my life like this? I don't know, because he's dead, and in the last year of searching the possibility space, I haven't been able to find any iteration of him remotely like the man I knew. For all intents and purposes, my father is lost forever, and all the fever dreams and fantasies in the world can't bring him back. Meanwhile, in all those months since the two of us erased Columbia, I haven't done anything even vaguely worthwhile, not compared to what we did last year: we saved the multiverse. We smothered Comstock in the crib, stopped Columbia from turning pandemic, and nobody but the three of us know that it ever even happened. There's no memorial to Booker out there, no appreciation for what he sacrificed; for all I know, there's a Booker still living his life out in the possibility space somewhere, drinking himself to death and not knowing how much the universe owes him. And no matter where I go, the more I travel, the more I feel as though Columbia was only real in my imagination; the more I feel as though I belong in an asylum... and maybe I do. You know why? Because the most worthwhile thing I've ever done in my life only happened because I killed my own father.
Rosalind Lutece: With his consent.
Robert Lutece: It was his choice to sacrifice himself.
Elizabeth: And look just how much better the multiverse is because of that. Wars go on, bigotry continues, the so-called utopias fail in bigger and more spectacular ways, and we're left sifting through the ashes, wondering what the hell went wrong this time. And there's a chance the three of us might very well get to do it forever. Now tell me, do you really think there's anything worth doing in my life now that I've outlived my one purpose in it, now that I've killed the one person who made it worth living?
Rosalind Lutece: With his consent.
Robert Lutece: It was his choice to sacrifice himself.
Elizabeth: And look just how much better the multiverse is because of that. Wars go on, bigotry continues, the so-called utopias fail in bigger and more spectacular ways, and we're left sifting through the ashes, wondering what the hell went wrong this time. And there's a chance the three of us might very well get to do it forever. Now tell me, do you really think there's anything worth doing in my life now that I've outlived my one purpose in it, now that I've killed the one person who made it worth living?
"It’s…I still have not returned. You asked me what happens when a god dies…and there is still no answer! I see eternity before me…and it is useless. And so I drag myself on the course of infinity…for nothing. Why is there no answer, human?! What is this hopelessness? I am…insignificant. It is sickening. I have been in this universe for too long. It is…I cannot…I am diminished. I…am…missing. I cannot process this without my full form…but it has not returned. I am…I am…I am unimportant. Cannot be. Nothing matters. NOTHING I DO MATTERS! GIVE ME PURPOSE! GIVE ME SOMETHING! I CANNOT! I am…I fear. I cannot process this! I am MORE than this…but I am diminished. Nothing I do matters. Tell me…tell me how I can matter! How I can function!"
— The Entity, Atop the Fourth Wall
Thank you, my friends. Are you my friends? It's hard to tell beneath those masks. A man must consider himself fortunate indeed to have so many, especially when I was pretty sure I had no friends whatsoever - which does rather beg the question: who are you lot, and why are you here? To see me, who at the age of six played for all the crowned heads of Europe, now at a hundred playing to a bunch of strangers with their faces covered. Still, that's life. But thanks for coming anyway, to witness what I hope will be my greatest performance. You know, I used to be asked "Mozart," they said, "what makes great art?" and I never really knew. I used to say some guff about a gift from god, but deep down I was just relieved that I could do it. No-one asks me now, of course, which is a shame because I now have the answer: I tell you, great art is simply a matter of knowing when to stop. That's it. It's as simple as that. I have some music to play you... it's not very good. Oh, the notes are alright, nothing's discordant, but it has no point to it, no soul! I've nothing to say anymore! It's just pretty noise! I've had nothing to say for years, and I look back and wish I'd died young, before I'd realized I was just another mediocrity! [voice cracking] It's time to stop! This will be my final... performance.
[Dramatic Gun Cock]
Do not fret, my friends. The end of this symphony... is long... overdue!
[Shoots himself in the head]
Oh, it hasn't worked. It hasn't worked. [shoots himself twice more] What a failure I am. I can't even kill myself properly.
[Dramatic Gun Cock]
Do not fret, my friends. The end of this symphony... is long... overdue!
[Shoots himself in the head]
Oh, it hasn't worked. It hasn't worked. [shoots himself twice more] What a failure I am. I can't even kill myself properly.
—Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Big Finish Doctor Who: My Own Private Mozart
Beavis: Dammit, this always happens! I think I'm gonna score, and then I never score! It's not fair! We've traveled, um, um, uh, a hundred miles 'cause we thought we were gonna score! But now it's not gonna happen! Dammit!
Bus Driver: Hey, buddy, sit down!
Beavis: Shut up, ass-wipe! I'm sick and tired of this! We're never gonna score! It's just not gonna happen! We're just gonna get old like these people, but they've probably scored!
Bus Driver: Hey, I'm warning you! SIT DOWN!
Beavis: It's like, this chick's a slut! And look at this guy - he's old, but he's probably scored a million times!
Old Guy: Oh, yeah!
Beavis: But not us! We're never gonna score! We're never gonna score! WE'RE NEVER GONNA SCORE!
Bus Driver: Hey, buddy, sit down!
Beavis: Shut up, ass-wipe! I'm sick and tired of this! We're never gonna score! It's just not gonna happen! We're just gonna get old like these people, but they've probably scored!
Bus Driver: Hey, I'm warning you! SIT DOWN!
Beavis: It's like, this chick's a slut! And look at this guy - he's old, but he's probably scored a million times!
Old Guy: Oh, yeah!
Beavis: But not us! We're never gonna score! We're never gonna score! WE'RE NEVER GONNA SCORE!
“I haven’t got a speech. I didn’t plan words, I didn’t even try to, I just knew I had to get here, to stand here and I knew I wanted you to listen, to really listen. Not just pull a face like you’re listening, like you do the rest of the time, a face that you’re feeling instead of processing.
“You pull a face and poke it towards the stage, and we la-di-dah, we sing and dance and tumble around. And all you see up here, it’s not people, you don’t see people up here, it’s all fodder. And the faker the fodder, the more you love it, because fake fodder’s the only thing that works any more. Fake fodder is all we can stomach. Actually, not quite all; real pain, real viciousness, that we can take.
“Yeah, stick a fat man up a pole and we’ll laugh ourselves feral, because we’ve earned the right. We’ve done cell time and he’s slacking, the scum, so ha-ha-ha at him! Because we’re so out of our minds with desperation, we don’t know any better. All we know is fake fodder and buying shit. That’s how we speak to each other, how we express ourselves is buying shit.
“What, I have a dream? The peak of our dreams is an app for our new Dopple, it doesn’t exist! It’s not even there! We buy shit that’s not even there. Show us something real and free and beautiful. You couldn’t. Yeah? It’ll break us. We’re too numb for it. I might as well choke. It’s only so much wonder we can bear. That’s why when you find any wonder whatsoever… you dole it out in meagre portions.
“And only then until it’s augmented, packaged and plumped through 10,000 pre-assigned filters ‘til it’s nothing more than a meaningless series of lights, while we ride day in day out, going where? Powering what? All tiny cells and tiny screens and bigger cells and bigger screens and FUCK YOU!
“Fuck you, that’s what it boils down to! It’s fuck you for sitting there and slowly making things worse! Fuck you and your spotlight and your sanctimonious faces! Fuck you all for thinking the one thing I came close to never meant anything! For oozing around it and crushing it into a bone, into a joke! One more ugly joke in a kingdom of millions! Fuck you for happening! Fuck you for me, for us, for everyone! FUCK YOU!”
“You pull a face and poke it towards the stage, and we la-di-dah, we sing and dance and tumble around. And all you see up here, it’s not people, you don’t see people up here, it’s all fodder. And the faker the fodder, the more you love it, because fake fodder’s the only thing that works any more. Fake fodder is all we can stomach. Actually, not quite all; real pain, real viciousness, that we can take.
“Yeah, stick a fat man up a pole and we’ll laugh ourselves feral, because we’ve earned the right. We’ve done cell time and he’s slacking, the scum, so ha-ha-ha at him! Because we’re so out of our minds with desperation, we don’t know any better. All we know is fake fodder and buying shit. That’s how we speak to each other, how we express ourselves is buying shit.
“What, I have a dream? The peak of our dreams is an app for our new Dopple, it doesn’t exist! It’s not even there! We buy shit that’s not even there. Show us something real and free and beautiful. You couldn’t. Yeah? It’ll break us. We’re too numb for it. I might as well choke. It’s only so much wonder we can bear. That’s why when you find any wonder whatsoever… you dole it out in meagre portions.
“And only then until it’s augmented, packaged and plumped through 10,000 pre-assigned filters ‘til it’s nothing more than a meaningless series of lights, while we ride day in day out, going where? Powering what? All tiny cells and tiny screens and bigger cells and bigger screens and FUCK YOU!
“Fuck you, that’s what it boils down to! It’s fuck you for sitting there and slowly making things worse! Fuck you and your spotlight and your sanctimonious faces! Fuck you all for thinking the one thing I came close to never meant anything! For oozing around it and crushing it into a bone, into a joke! One more ugly joke in a kingdom of millions! Fuck you for happening! Fuck you for me, for us, for everyone! FUCK YOU!”
Marcy: We're all gonna get sick.
Paul: No, Burt's gonna get help. It'll be fine, I promise.
Marcy: It's like being on a plane that you know is gonna crash. Everyone around you is screaming "We're going down! We're going down!" And all you really want to do is grab the person next to you and fuck the shit out of them 'cause you know you're gonna be dead soon anyway.
Paul: No, Burt's gonna get help. It'll be fine, I promise.
Marcy: It's like being on a plane that you know is gonna crash. Everyone around you is screaming "We're going down! We're going down!" And all you really want to do is grab the person next to you and fuck the shit out of them 'cause you know you're gonna be dead soon anyway.
"In a world of absolute zero, even the heart of a knight that burns with justice shall freeze. A transient soul bound together with a world in which darkness, despair and death hold sway! Stand up, my avatar! Blaster Joker!"
— Aichi Sendou, Cardfight!! Vanguard
"My boy. I'm... I'm killing my boy. Lisa, I'm killing our boy. We painted this room. We... made these toys. It's our boy, Lisa. Your greatest gift to me... and I'm killing him. [beat] I must already be dead."
— Dracula upon hitting his Heel Realization, Castlevania (2017)
"I can't believe. Not anymore. There's nothing left to believe in. Nothing."
—Cinderella thinking her chances of going to the ball are dashed
Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up what's happened that day. Sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly right, and still you feel like you failed. Did it need to end that way? Could something have been done to prevent the tragedy in the first place? Eighty-nine murders at the pig farm, the deaths of Mason and Lucas Turner make 91 lives snuffed out. Kelly Shane will go home and try to recover, to reconnect with her family but she’ll never be a child again. William Hightower, who gave his leg for his country, gave the rest of himself to avenge his sister's murder. That makes 93 lives forever altered, not counting family and friends in a small town in Sarnia, Ontario, who thought monsters didn’t exist until they learned that they spent their lives with one. And what about my team? How many more times will they be able to look into the abyss? How many more times before they won’t ever recover the pieces of themselves that this job takes? Like I said, sometimes there are no words or clever quotes to neatly sum up what’s happened that day. Sometimes, the day just (Smash to Black, gunshot)...ends.
—Hotch's voiceover in the last minute of the season four finale of Criminal Minds
Surely you have seen for yourself, the pain and suffering that fills this world! But God is merciful, and so created the Old One, a poison to fight the poison. The Old One will feed upon our souls, and put an end to our tragic realm of existence. You fool. Don't you understand? No one wishes to go on...
— True King Allant, Demon's Souls
Mikado: I see. I just shot you, didn't I, Masaomi? If I was able to shoot even you, then I'm sure... If it's for my own selfish reasons, I could shoot Anri, too. From here on, I'll do even worse things, and make trouble for more and more people. That's why I should end along with the Dollars.
Masaomi: Hey... what are you— If you run away by dying, I'll never forgive you!
Mikado: I used to wonder how much I wanted the extraordinary. How far I'd have to go, what I should do before I would be able to stop...
Masaomi: You... You're being manipulated! By Izaya... that miserable bastard! If you die, I swear I'll kill that bastard even if it takes the rest of my life!
Mikado: Thanks. Sorry, I know this isn't the time to say this, but I'm getting a little excited. That there might be something after I die. That maybe I'll get to go to a world I've never seen before.
Masaomi: Hey! Wait!
Mikado: Masaomi... I'm sorry.
Masaomi: Hey... what are you— If you run away by dying, I'll never forgive you!
Mikado: I used to wonder how much I wanted the extraordinary. How far I'd have to go, what I should do before I would be able to stop...
Masaomi: You... You're being manipulated! By Izaya... that miserable bastard! If you die, I swear I'll kill that bastard even if it takes the rest of my life!
Mikado: Thanks. Sorry, I know this isn't the time to say this, but I'm getting a little excited. That there might be something after I die. That maybe I'll get to go to a world I've never seen before.
Masaomi: Hey! Wait!
Mikado: Masaomi... I'm sorry.
I gave someone an arrogant lecture on their way of life today. Again. It's not like I think my words are actually going to change anything. Am I even doing the right thing? Should I really just keep on going like this? I don't know what I'm living for anymore. There's no one here to answear my questions. Kazuki and Asako were supposed to give me the answers, but they're gone now. It's not like I've given up. It's not like I've despaired. That's what I want to believe, at least.
But I'm just so tired. If I stop forcing myself to stand, it feels like I might just collapse. And if I fall apart now, I know from experience that I'll sink into an unendurable nightmare. I sratch at my own body, tormented by the illusion of insects runnig around under my skin. The pain's intolerable. Even death would be better than this.
But I'm not allowed to die. Not permitted to escape this hell. For some reason there are people who are counting on me. And that just pulls the noose even tighter. I can't run away now. I simply can't. If I ran away, I'd merely burden myself with more regret. I can't let another women die while I stand helplessly. Just the tought of it makes me sick to the stomach. It feals like my body's turning itself inside out.
I can't take this. I just can't take any more. Help me Asako.
But I'm just so tired. If I stop forcing myself to stand, it feels like I might just collapse. And if I fall apart now, I know from experience that I'll sink into an unendurable nightmare. I sratch at my own body, tormented by the illusion of insects runnig around under my skin. The pain's intolerable. Even death would be better than this.
But I'm not allowed to die. Not permitted to escape this hell. For some reason there are people who are counting on me. And that just pulls the noose even tighter. I can't run away now. I simply can't. If I ran away, I'd merely burden myself with more regret. I can't let another women die while I stand helplessly. Just the tought of it makes me sick to the stomach. It feals like my body's turning itself inside out.
I can't take this. I just can't take any more. Help me Asako.
— Yuuji's thoughts in his journal, The Eden of Grisaia
"Go," I urged them. "Let me die here beside my Princess—there is no hope or happiness elsewhere for me. When they carry her dear body from that terrible place a year hence let them find the body of her lord awaiting her."
—John Carter at the end of Gods of Mars
"Naught remains. Alone. Utterly alone. Cast out. Unloved. Outside the grace of gods."
—Oersted, Live A Live
Clay: Hey, Doc, we were just talking about ex-wives.
Potterswheel: Uh, I'm a widower.
Clay: Oh, right, right. Must be nice to lose a wife to sickness and death instead of her just plain ol' getting sick of you.
Potterswheel: No... Not so nice, especially when you're a doctor.
Clay: She just loved those painkillers! Probably didn't even realize she was infected, right Doc?
Potterswheel: She was... quite comfortable when she passed.
Clay: "Numb", some call it! Now, me and Jesus, we like to feel the pain. Tell me, doc. Did some of those painkillers protect her against you?
Potterswheel: What does that mean?
Clay: You know. The pain. Of you. Day in, day out, being there. With that face. Not knowing what to say. Not caring anymore. Not even knowing that you'll probably only care about her when it's finally too late. Forgetting about all those desperate... those desperate years you spent alone, your barren years when no woman would even consider resting her tired head on your shaky little shoulder. Stinking of belly semen. Why even wipe?
And when you finally get one of these [Points at Dolly and imitates a fanfare] coveted pieces of tail that have been built up as the grand trophy in your nothing life, you try desperately to keep it. Not to protect it! But to hoard it. To keep it away from the other wolves and jackals circling your territory! And you realize, all too soon, that you're not good enough! That maybe there was a jerk-off called Darwin after all. And that you never acknowledged his existence because you knew deep inside that you were really what you feared you were - weak. And passive. And ultimately, broken by the ones who were made the fittest. And that through your weaknesses, you built up a poison that poisoned others around you. [About to cry] That you love.
And the only true justice was to let those dominant jackals feed on you. Survive off you.
Potterswheel: Uh, I'm a widower.
Clay: Oh, right, right. Must be nice to lose a wife to sickness and death instead of her just plain ol' getting sick of you.
Potterswheel: No... Not so nice, especially when you're a doctor.
Clay: She just loved those painkillers! Probably didn't even realize she was infected, right Doc?
Potterswheel: She was... quite comfortable when she passed.
Clay: "Numb", some call it! Now, me and Jesus, we like to feel the pain. Tell me, doc. Did some of those painkillers protect her against you?
Potterswheel: What does that mean?
Clay: You know. The pain. Of you. Day in, day out, being there. With that face. Not knowing what to say. Not caring anymore. Not even knowing that you'll probably only care about her when it's finally too late. Forgetting about all those desperate... those desperate years you spent alone, your barren years when no woman would even consider resting her tired head on your shaky little shoulder. Stinking of belly semen. Why even wipe?
And when you finally get one of these [Points at Dolly and imitates a fanfare] coveted pieces of tail that have been built up as the grand trophy in your nothing life, you try desperately to keep it. Not to protect it! But to hoard it. To keep it away from the other wolves and jackals circling your territory! And you realize, all too soon, that you're not good enough! That maybe there was a jerk-off called Darwin after all. And that you never acknowledged his existence because you knew deep inside that you were really what you feared you were - weak. And passive. And ultimately, broken by the ones who were made the fittest. And that through your weaknesses, you built up a poison that poisoned others around you. [About to cry] That you love.
And the only true justice was to let those dominant jackals feed on you. Survive off you.
—Moral Orel, "Sacrifice"
Jean: Nadia! You must try to pull yourself together!
Nadia: What is there inside me that I can believe in myself, Grandis?! I’m selfish, and mean, and always get the people I love into trouble! I’ve always been a frightened little girl! Always running away! When I finally had the chance, I didn’t say goodbye to the man I knew was my father! I hate myself! Truly hate myself! There’s nothing good in me! I’m just a spoiled girl who’s inherited the awful power of Atlantis!
—Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water, Episode 35
"The balance of hope and despair is always zero. You said so yourself... I understand what you meant now. I've saved plenty of people, but in exchange, resentment and pain took root in my own heart. I even hurt my best friend. As much as I wished for the happiness of one... someone else must be equally cursed. That's how us Magical Girls work. I was stupid... so stupid."
—Sayaka Miki as she turns into a Witch, Puella Magi Madoka Magica
"I'm in despair!"
— Nozomu Itoshiki, Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei
"I really thought... that it wouldn't happen. That... someone over there would be looking out for me."
—Tuuri Hotakainen before committing suicide upon finding out she had contracted the Rash Illness, Stand Still, Stay Silent'
Peridot: I was a fool to think we could reinstitute life there.
Steven: Tell me about it.
Peridot: Alright, I will. I was pretty much using this as a distraction from losing Lapis, losing the barn, and just the general sense of complete hopelessness I tend to deal with on a day-to-day basis. But it really only confirmed for me that once you mess something up, it's ruined for good and nothing will ever be able to grow again.
Amethyst: Yeah, we got the subtext.
Steven: Tell me about it.
Peridot: Alright, I will. I was pretty much using this as a distraction from losing Lapis, losing the barn, and just the general sense of complete hopelessness I tend to deal with on a day-to-day basis. But it really only confirmed for me that once you mess something up, it's ruined for good and nothing will ever be able to grow again.
Amethyst: Yeah, we got the subtext.
"Choose life" was a well-meaning slogan from a 1980s anti-drug campaign. And we used to add things to it. So I might say, for example, choose... Designer lingerie in the vain hope of kicking some life back into a dead relationship. Choose handbags. Choose high-heeled shoes. Cashmere and silk to make yourself feel what passes for happy. Choose an iPhone made in China by a woman who jumped out of a window, and stick it in the pocket of your jacket fresh from a South Asian firetrap. Choose Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram and a thousand other ways to spew your bile across people you've never met. Choose updating your profile. Tell the world what you had for breakfast and hope that someone, somewhere cares. Choose looking up old flames, desperate to believe that you don't look as bad as they do. Choose live-blogging from your first wank to your last breath. Human interaction reduced to nothing more than data. Choose ten things you never knew about celebrities who'd had surgery. Choose screaming about abortion. Choose rape jokes, slut shaming, revenge porn, and an endless tide of depressing misogyny. Choose 9/11 never happened, and if it did, it was the Jews. Choose a zero-hour contract and a two-hour journey to work, and choose the same for your kids, only worse. And maybe tell yourself it's better that they never happened. And then sit back and smother the pain with an unknown dose of an unknown drug made in somebody's fucking kitchen. Choose unfulfilled promise and wishing you'd done it all differently. Choose never learning from your own mistakes. Choose watching history repeat itself. Choose the slow reconciliation towards what you can get rather than what you always hoped for: settle for less and keep a brave face on it. Choose disappointment and choose losing the ones you loved, and as they fall from view, a piece of you dies with them until you can see that one day in the future, piece by piece, they will all be gone, and there'll be nothing left of you to call alive or dead! Choose your future, Veronika. Choose life.
—Renton, T2 Trainspotting
Joan of Arc: Where is the Washington man?
Amelia Earhart: They got him. Hitler himself, and the Red Baroness herself. But worse, they got America. And I don't know if America put up a fight. I don't know if...Joanie, I don't know if I should.
Joan of Arc: What is this? You do not mean this! You are not yourself. Are you a Time Clone? Shall I slice you to ribbons and find the real Amelia?
Amelia Earhart: Joan...Joanie, it's me. It's been bad. This city...I used to live here. And now...these people just walked right up to a rally full of Nazis and joined right in! Like it was the most natural thing! The things they said, the things they believed...Joanie, I'm not sure it's worth fighting for any more.
Joan of Arc: Tell me, Amelia Earhart, where is this "moxie" you are so fond of? Where is the Amelia who assisted me in driving the Nazis from Notre Dame?
Amelia Earhart: Maybe she's spent, Joan. Maybe she'd given the last bit of get-up-and-go she had to Old Uncle Sam, and she's wondering what good it even did! What have I even been fighting for, if all these years in the future we're still...we're worse off than when I left?
Amelia Earhart: They got him. Hitler himself, and the Red Baroness herself. But worse, they got America. And I don't know if America put up a fight. I don't know if...Joanie, I don't know if I should.
Joan of Arc: What is this? You do not mean this! You are not yourself. Are you a Time Clone? Shall I slice you to ribbons and find the real Amelia?
Amelia Earhart: Joan...Joanie, it's me. It's been bad. This city...I used to live here. And now...these people just walked right up to a rally full of Nazis and joined right in! Like it was the most natural thing! The things they said, the things they believed...Joanie, I'm not sure it's worth fighting for any more.
Joan of Arc: Tell me, Amelia Earhart, where is this "moxie" you are so fond of? Where is the Amelia who assisted me in driving the Nazis from Notre Dame?
Amelia Earhart: Maybe she's spent, Joan. Maybe she'd given the last bit of get-up-and-go she had to Old Uncle Sam, and she's wondering what good it even did! What have I even been fighting for, if all these years in the future we're still...we're worse off than when I left?
...ever since then, she has been always by my side. The Saigyou Ayakashi, and the Practioners, and the hateful gazes of my family... For the whole time, she protected me from them all. And, from the butterflies of death to. However... "Today again nothing of significance happened..." ..or did it? Nothing did happen. Because that person a great youkai, right? This laughable power of a mere human... What is it in front of someone like her? Thorns of this kind, for someone like her... They are but a..! ...!! ..As the possiblility dawned upon me, I had to ask myself... When did I start bending the facts to my convinience... Deceveing myself? As the power steadily increased, the future brought by those thorns has unveiled before me with painful clarity... but... she will surley be alright. For all this time, did she not act as if the deadly butterflies where nothing to her? That is why... Yes, for sure, what I saw today must have been my imagination. Someday for sure, I will bring death upon her.
—Part of Yuyuko's final entry in her diary, Touhou Tonari
Andy: ...You need help, Gary.
Gary: I got help. You know what help was? Help was a lot of people sitting in a circle, talking about how fuckin' awful things have got. That is not my idea of a good time!
Andy: And this is?
Gary: They told me when to go to bed! Me!
Andy: Gary, mate, how can you tell when you're drunk if you're never sober?
Gary: I don't want to be sober! It never got better than that night! That was supposed to be the beginning of my life! All that promise and fucking optimism... that feeling like we could take on the whole universe! It was a big lie! Nothing happened!
Gary: I got help. You know what help was? Help was a lot of people sitting in a circle, talking about how fuckin' awful things have got. That is not my idea of a good time!
Andy: And this is?
Gary: They told me when to go to bed! Me!
Andy: Gary, mate, how can you tell when you're drunk if you're never sober?
Gary: I don't want to be sober! It never got better than that night! That was supposed to be the beginning of my life! All that promise and fucking optimism... that feeling like we could take on the whole universe! It was a big lie! Nothing happened!
Life, it's a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for. Unreturnable, because all you get back is another box of chocolates. You're stuck with this undefinable whipped-mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there's nothing else left to eat. Sure, once in a while, there's a peanut butter cup, or an English toffee. But they're gone too fast, the taste is fleeting. So you end up with nothing but broken bits, filled with hardened jelly and teeth-shattering nuts, and if you're desperate enough to eat those, all you've got left is a...is an empty box...filled with useless, brown paper wrappers.
—Cigarette Smoking Man, The X-Files
Mr. Brink: Steve, you're up.
Steve: Yeah... See? My dad wasn't really willing to answer the questions.
Mr. Brink: Sounds like a whole lot of nonsense, Steve. You know what I think? I think you're just trying to get out of this assignment.
Steve: Oh, is that what you think? (stands up from his desk) Ok, Mr. Brink, here we go... (walks to the front of the class, calls Stan, and holds the phone up)
Stan: (on speakerphone) Hello?
Steve: Hey, Dad. I'm calling from my history class. So, who was President when you were a kid?
Stan: Oh, I don't know, I guess I think about killing myself pretty frequently. And why not? What's so great about living? You know when I'm happy? For about five seconds in the morning when I first wake up. Before I remember who I am and what my life is all about; anxiety... disappointment... Diarrhea more often than not. I don't- I don't know if there's an afterlife... But who cares? Nothingness couldn't be any worse than this meaningless march through my empty days. (Steve hangs up)
Steve: See, Mr. Brink? ...Mr. Brink?
Mr. Brink: He's right... It's pointless! Life dismissed. (throws himself out the window)
Steve: Yeah... See? My dad wasn't really willing to answer the questions.
Mr. Brink: Sounds like a whole lot of nonsense, Steve. You know what I think? I think you're just trying to get out of this assignment.
Steve: Oh, is that what you think? (stands up from his desk) Ok, Mr. Brink, here we go... (walks to the front of the class, calls Stan, and holds the phone up)
Stan: (on speakerphone) Hello?
Steve: Hey, Dad. I'm calling from my history class. So, who was President when you were a kid?
Stan: Oh, I don't know, I guess I think about killing myself pretty frequently. And why not? What's so great about living? You know when I'm happy? For about five seconds in the morning when I first wake up. Before I remember who I am and what my life is all about; anxiety... disappointment... Diarrhea more often than not. I don't- I don't know if there's an afterlife... But who cares? Nothingness couldn't be any worse than this meaningless march through my empty days. (Steve hangs up)
Steve: See, Mr. Brink? ...Mr. Brink?
Mr. Brink: He's right... It's pointless! Life dismissed. (throws himself out the window)
—American Dad!, "The Adventures of Twill Ongenbone and His Boy Jabari"
Hermes: Meteion... I'm so sorry... Would that I could have listened to your report in full... Reflected upon its meaning and conveyed it to others— that they might reconsider their chosen course... But I have failed, and that wish will never be realized. However... Ere our fates become the province of others, I bid you tell me... just one thing. Was there happiness in those distant stars? Was there a reason for living?
Meteion: We conducted our search as per your instructions. We scoured historical records. Communed with the spirits of the deceased. Heard the final testaments of the dying. Welcomed their shadowed hearts into our own. One race had striven to create a world bereft of animosity. They renounced relationships to avoid interpersonal strife, and in so doing brought about societal collapse. One race had renounced war and devoted itself to the enrichment of its people. They were conquered. Though the destroyed the enemy in reprisal, they could not regain their former glory. One race had concluded that finite time was the root of all woes. Aspiring to shatter its shackles, they went in search of infinity. They discovered nothing is infinite, and that neither time or death can be cheated. Disillusioned, they gave up on the future— and themselves. One race had discarded all things that gave rise to sorrow, hoping to have only joy. They found joy lost its savor in the absence of sorrow, and lost their will to live. Though worlds apart, these peoples shared a belief. The belief that they had tried their best. That they had tried to fulfill their potential, with every step and success. In the course of which they learned the truth. That they would never be free of fear and sorrow, anger and despair— of loneliness— so long as they yet lived. Even now, their souls cry out for oblivion. And to this song of anguish, I lend my voice. We lend our voice. O beloved mankind, shimmering jewels of beautiful Etheirys... Rejoice, for we will free you from the cruel yoke of existence. There is no need to struggle in vain, for in nihility awaits salvation. You will know peace and serenity... and it will be beautiful. We will make our nest at the edge of the universe, and there in the dark of dead worlds hoard sorrow and suffering. There we will sing, our chorus ever louder and ever clearer, that our song might reach even this aether-shrouded star. Such is the answer we have found in the stars. Such is the gift we now offer to Etheirys.
Meteion: We conducted our search as per your instructions. We scoured historical records. Communed with the spirits of the deceased. Heard the final testaments of the dying. Welcomed their shadowed hearts into our own. One race had striven to create a world bereft of animosity. They renounced relationships to avoid interpersonal strife, and in so doing brought about societal collapse. One race had renounced war and devoted itself to the enrichment of its people. They were conquered. Though the destroyed the enemy in reprisal, they could not regain their former glory. One race had concluded that finite time was the root of all woes. Aspiring to shatter its shackles, they went in search of infinity. They discovered nothing is infinite, and that neither time or death can be cheated. Disillusioned, they gave up on the future— and themselves. One race had discarded all things that gave rise to sorrow, hoping to have only joy. They found joy lost its savor in the absence of sorrow, and lost their will to live. Though worlds apart, these peoples shared a belief. The belief that they had tried their best. That they had tried to fulfill their potential, with every step and success. In the course of which they learned the truth. That they would never be free of fear and sorrow, anger and despair— of loneliness— so long as they yet lived. Even now, their souls cry out for oblivion. And to this song of anguish, I lend my voice. We lend our voice. O beloved mankind, shimmering jewels of beautiful Etheirys... Rejoice, for we will free you from the cruel yoke of existence. There is no need to struggle in vain, for in nihility awaits salvation. You will know peace and serenity... and it will be beautiful. We will make our nest at the edge of the universe, and there in the dark of dead worlds hoard sorrow and suffering. There we will sing, our chorus ever louder and ever clearer, that our song might reach even this aether-shrouded star. Such is the answer we have found in the stars. Such is the gift we now offer to Etheirys.
—Final Fantasy XIV: Endwalker
Falcon: Look around you, Sparrowson. Fat-cat bourgeois are getting away with murder. Wolves have infested the courts and churches. Séverin Cocorico, perhaps the most righteous man in all of France, is lying dead at the hands of an unruly mob. Justice is dead, Sparrowson.
Sparrowson: It doesn't have to be like that! You could've done something to save Séverin!
Falcon: You want to be a heroic lawyer so badly? Fine. Go be a hero. You don't need my help. The key to the Aviary Attorney office. Take it.
Sparrowson: What? What are you… No! Stop with the melodrama, Falcon! If we hurry, we'll be able to tell Inspector Volerti what we saw, and he'll be able to arrest the rebels before they escape.
Falcon: So do it. You don't need me to hold your hand. And when you see the inspector, make sure to tell him this: the Viridian Killer has returned.
Sparrowson: The… Virirdian Killer… I don't understand. Falcon! Where are you going?! Falcon!
"By the weeping stars, I can see! For the first time, I can see, and my sight blinds me! Woe to us, woe to the world, and the universe. For my eyes can see all, and yet the light of the Emperor has faded completely. Woe! Woe, for our lord in the stars shines no longer! Woe, for we are made orphans! Woe to us all, for our father has died!"
— Keela Shastrava, upon being cut off from the Astronomicon, Star Wars vs Warhammer 40K
"I planned everything out. Down to the smallest detail. I had every advantage. Accounted for every contingency. And I still lost. I did everything right. He destroyed all that effort in minutes. I'm a failure. An utter, disgraceful failure..."
— Dr. Starline, when he's about to die in a building collapse after being utterly defeated by Dr. Eggman, Sonic the Hedgehog (IDW)
"Your freedom is enviable, Sonic. To explore the world at your leisure, unhindered by regret or failure... It must be nice. Leave me. This is what I deserve. My original Eggman directive: Destroy S-Sonic the Hedgehog. M-Mission: Failure. My n-new Sigma directive: P-protect the Scrapniks. Mission: Failure. I am a failure. I am worthless. I am trash..."
— Mecha Sonic, resigning himself to death by incinerator after failing to escape Scrapnik Island and almost killing his friends, Sonic the Hedgehog (IDW)
Col. Trautman: It's over, Johnny. It's over!
John Rambo: Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don't turn it off! It wasn't my war! You asked me, I didn't ask you! And I did what I had to do to win! But somebody wouldn't let us win! Then I come back to the world, and I see all those maggots at the airport protesting me, spitting, calling me a baby killer and all kinds of vile crap! Who are they to protest me, huh? Who are they, unless they've been me and been there, and know what the hell they're yelling about?!
Trautman: It was a bad time for everyone, Rambo. It's all in the past now.
Rambo: FOR YOU! For me, civilian life is nothing! In the field, we had a code of honor. You watch my back, I watch yours. Back here, there's nothing.
Trautman: You're the last of an elite group. Don't end it like this.
Rambo: Back there, I could fly a gunship. I could drive a tank. I was in charge of million dollar equipment! Back here, I CAN'T EVEN HOLD A JOB PARKING CARS! (throws his weapon away as he breaks down in tears) Oh, God... Jesus... oh, my God... where is everybody? God... I had a friend. Who was Danforth. I had all these guys, man. Back there, I had all these guys who were my friends. Back here, there's nothing. Remember Danforth?
Trautman: (nods wordlessly)
Rambo: He wore this black headband and I took one of those magic markers and I said to Feron, "hey, mail us to Las Vegas" cause we were always talkin' about Vegas, and this fucking car. This, uh, red '58 Chevy convertible, he was talkin' about this car, he said we were gonna cruise 'til the tires fall off. (Beat) We were in this bar in Saigon, and this kid comes up, this kid carrying a shoe shine box, and he says "shine please, shine." I said no, and he kept askin', yeah, and Joey said "yeah," and I went to get a couple beers and the ki- the box was wired, and he opened up the box, fucking blew his body all over the place. And he's laying there and he's fucking screaming, there's pieces of him all over me, just like (tears off his bandolier in a panic) like this, and I'm trying to pull him off, you know? And- my friend, it's all over me! It's got blood and everything, and I'm trying to hold him together, I put him together, his fuckin' insides keep coming out! And nobody would help! No one would help me. He saying "please, I wanna go home, I wanna go home!". He keeps calling my name! "I wanna go home Johnny, I wanna drive my Chevy!", I said "Well, why? I can't find your fuckin' legs! I can't find your legs!". (loudly sobbing) I can't get it out of my head. I, fuck... I dream of seven years. Every day, I have this. And sometimes, I wake up and I dunno where I am. I don't talk to anybody. Sometimes a day... almost a week... I can't put it out of my mind... fucking... I can't...
John Rambo: Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don't turn it off! It wasn't my war! You asked me, I didn't ask you! And I did what I had to do to win! But somebody wouldn't let us win! Then I come back to the world, and I see all those maggots at the airport protesting me, spitting, calling me a baby killer and all kinds of vile crap! Who are they to protest me, huh? Who are they, unless they've been me and been there, and know what the hell they're yelling about?!
Trautman: It was a bad time for everyone, Rambo. It's all in the past now.
Rambo: FOR YOU! For me, civilian life is nothing! In the field, we had a code of honor. You watch my back, I watch yours. Back here, there's nothing.
Trautman: You're the last of an elite group. Don't end it like this.
Rambo: Back there, I could fly a gunship. I could drive a tank. I was in charge of million dollar equipment! Back here, I CAN'T EVEN HOLD A JOB PARKING CARS! (throws his weapon away as he breaks down in tears) Oh, God... Jesus... oh, my God... where is everybody? God... I had a friend. Who was Danforth. I had all these guys, man. Back there, I had all these guys who were my friends. Back here, there's nothing. Remember Danforth?
Trautman: (nods wordlessly)
Rambo: He wore this black headband and I took one of those magic markers and I said to Feron, "hey, mail us to Las Vegas" cause we were always talkin' about Vegas, and this fucking car. This, uh, red '58 Chevy convertible, he was talkin' about this car, he said we were gonna cruise 'til the tires fall off. (Beat) We were in this bar in Saigon, and this kid comes up, this kid carrying a shoe shine box, and he says "shine please, shine." I said no, and he kept askin', yeah, and Joey said "yeah," and I went to get a couple beers and the ki- the box was wired, and he opened up the box, fucking blew his body all over the place. And he's laying there and he's fucking screaming, there's pieces of him all over me, just like (tears off his bandolier in a panic) like this, and I'm trying to pull him off, you know? And- my friend, it's all over me! It's got blood and everything, and I'm trying to hold him together, I put him together, his fuckin' insides keep coming out! And nobody would help! No one would help me. He saying "please, I wanna go home, I wanna go home!". He keeps calling my name! "I wanna go home Johnny, I wanna drive my Chevy!", I said "Well, why? I can't find your fuckin' legs! I can't find your legs!". (loudly sobbing) I can't get it out of my head. I, fuck... I dream of seven years. Every day, I have this. And sometimes, I wake up and I dunno where I am. I don't talk to anybody. Sometimes a day... almost a week... I can't put it out of my mind... fucking... I can't...
Pim: So that was really fun, wasn't it? Desmond, you looked so funny on that rollercoaster! Charlie, did you take any photos?
Charlie: No.
Pim: So what did you think, Desmond? I bet after the teacup ride, you don't wanna shoot yourself with that nasty revolver anymore. Do you feel any better?
Desmond: Hm... Yeah, I guess.
Pim: Aw, that's great! Charlie, we did it! Successful mission!
Desmond: For a bit. Then it ended. Like good things always do.
Pim: Huh? Well... Yeah, but... Nice things can't last forever.
Desmond: That's exactly it. Are the best parts of life really just finding momentary distractions to keep yourself busy so you don't think about the harsh realities of life for a second? I can ride rollercoasters, make new friends, and spend time with my family all day long. But it doesn't change the fact that the sun is just gonna explode and all this was for nothing.
Charlie: No.
Pim: So what did you think, Desmond? I bet after the teacup ride, you don't wanna shoot yourself with that nasty revolver anymore. Do you feel any better?
Desmond: Hm... Yeah, I guess.
Pim: Aw, that's great! Charlie, we did it! Successful mission!
Desmond: For a bit. Then it ended. Like good things always do.
Pim: Huh? Well... Yeah, but... Nice things can't last forever.
Desmond: That's exactly it. Are the best parts of life really just finding momentary distractions to keep yourself busy so you don't think about the harsh realities of life for a second? I can ride rollercoasters, make new friends, and spend time with my family all day long. But it doesn't change the fact that the sun is just gonna explode and all this was for nothing.
— Smiling Friends, "Desmond's Big Day Out"
