Follow TV Tropes


Quotes / Wretched Hive

Go To

This ain't no place for no hero
This ain't no place for no better man
This ain't no place for no hero
To call home
—"Short Change Hero" by The Heavy

There's a hole in the world like a great black pit,
And the vermin of the world inhabit it,
And its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit,
And it goes by the name of London.
At the top of the hole sit a privileged few,
Making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo,
Turning beauty into filth and greed! I too
Have sailed the world and seen its wonders,
For the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru,
But there's no place like London!

"Steel Harbor, The Last Free City™, which appears to just have random things on fire at all times."
ComicsAlliance on Barb Wire

Seth: (scoffs) Shit. I been to bars make this place look like a fuckin' 4-H club!
Richie: (less confident) I gotta say I'm with Jacob on this. I been to some fucked up places in my time, but that place is fucked up.

"Around Barker's hole in the ground a town sprang up, a wretched hive of log shacks, stores of whipsawed lumber with false fronts, saloons with pianos, mirrors and champagne..."
Bruce Hutchinson, The Fraser. In 1950.

"I've lived in Verel. That would be the place to look for degenerates, all right."

"Ghaal! That seething pit of vermin! That filth brimming sinkhole of despair! In such degradation there is purity. In such ugliness there is wonder. In such death and suffering, there is life, so holy to Drakaasi for it is life that must be ended!"
Mind Journeys of a Heretic Saint, by Inquisitor Helmandar Oswain (Suppressed by order of the Ordo Hereticus), Warhammer 40,000

"I am Omega. I'm the boss, CEO, Queen, if you're feeling dramatic. Omega has no titled ruler, and only one rule: Don't. Fuck. With Aria."
Aria T'Loak, Mass Effect 2

"I’ve only been here for a day, but let’s start with the facts: This city is out of its fucking mind."
Victor Talbot, Baccano!! 1711 - Whitesmile''

If you're looking for justice, you've come to the wrong place.
Tyrion Lannister, Game of Thrones

Black strap, Rum and gin
Sexual freedom all the way
A rolling dice, an ace of hearts
One shall win and one's to pay
— "Port Royal" by Running Wild

Kohaku: What's up, boys?
Ram: Oh, um, not much....I guess...
Kohaku: ...You sound vaguely distressed. Something up?
Ram: This is a bad place.
Igno: (to Kohaku) Oh, not much, just looking around.
Igno: (to Ram) How so?
Kohaku: (to Igno) Find anything cool?
Kohaku: (to Ram) Really? Doesn't seem that bad. It reminds me a bit of home, but that's about it.
Ram: ...I was stranded here while on Pilgrimage. I was homeless here for a long time. You do not want to be homeless on Omega. ESPECIALLY if you are a quarian.
Kohaku: That bad, huh?
Igno: (to Kohaku) Uh, not yet, didn't get much time, was busy with stuff back home.
Igno: (to Ram) Oh.
Ram: There was a mad doctor that experimented on my people while I was here.
Igno: Uhhhhh...
Ram: (Nods) This is a bad place.
Kohaku: I'm sure we'll be fine. It's pretty much just a thug land, right?
Igno: Looks like it.

"I think that if God doesn't destroy Shanghai then He owes Sodom and Gomorrah an apology."
Jake Sullivan, The Grimnoir Chronicles

You're in the place they call the night side
In the shadows where the killers and the pirates hide
Stick around if you think you can survive
In the city on the night side
The Sword, "Night City"

"Sometimes I think this whole city was put here simply because the gods must adore crime. Pickpockets rob the common folk, merchants rob anyone they can dupe, Capa Barsavi robs the robbers and the common folk, the lesser nobles rob nearly everyone, and Duke Nicovante occasionally runs off with his army and robs the shit out of Tal Verrar or Jerem, not to mention what he does to his own nobles and his common folk."
Locke Lamora, The Lies of Locke Lamora

"Crime wave in Gotham!" Other breaking news: "Water, wet!"

One and a half million people lived in Juárez, most of them in indescribable poverty made all the more difficult for being endured in the shadow of El Paso's wealth. Here were smugglers of drugs and people. Here were prostitutes barely into puberty, and others who would never live long enough to see puberty. Here were the maquiladoras, the huge electrical assembly plants that provided microwaves and hair dryers to the First World, the prices kept down by paying the workers $10 a day and denying them legal protection or union representation. Outside the perimeter fences stretched row upon row of crate houses, the colonias populares without sanitation, running water, electricity or paved roads, home to the men and women who labored in the maquiladoras, the more fortunate of whom were picked up each morning by the red-and-green buses once used to ferry American children to and from school, while the rest were forced to endure the perilous early-morning walk through Sitio Colosio Valle or some similarly malodorous area. Beyond their homes lay the municipal dumps, where the scavengers made more than the factory workers. Here were the brothels of Mariscal and the shooting galleries of Ugarte Street, where young men and women injected themselves with Mexican tar, a cheap heroin derivative from Sinaloa, leaving a trail of bloodied needles in their wake. here were eight hundred gangs, each roaming the streets of the city with relative impunity, their members beyond a law that was powerless to act against them - or more properly, too corrupt to care.

It is a realm of a thousand smokes, each fouler than the rest; of clanking gears that relentlessly grind up spirits and use them for fodder; of row upon row of rotting tenements and firetrap slums. Countless factories belch smog into the already-filth air. Strip-mines ravage the muddy, eroded ground, and a few architectural abortions of office buildings provide headquarters for the Banes and Weaver-spirits that oversee the whole affair. Piles of debris and garbage make travel through the cracked alleys a slow and sometimes hazardous affair. Visitors who've survived the trip have claimed that the air is so filthy that one cannot determine whether its day or night, and that one can quickly be covered in soot simply by standing still. The emanations that exist ("live" is too noble a term) in the Scar are wan, pale phantoms that exist only to run the machines of the factories, to make sure that one spirit after another is broken down for its Gnosis. Their "lives" are a mockery of industry: 80-hour work weeks, appalling working conditions, no benefits or overtime, and no future. Punishments for "dereliction of duty" range from beatings to loss of their meager energy wage note  to outright termination. These creatures work to exist and exist to work.
Werewolf: The Apocalypse - Umbra: The Velvet Shadows

"The great Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi once said of the Tatooine spaceport, Mos Eisley, 'You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.' Apparently, Obi-Wan never visited Nar Shaddaa. Jutting ominously into darkened skies, the infamous 'vertical city' teems with galactic bog slime of the lowest variety."
Official Prima Games Strategy Guide for Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II

Why do we always come here?
It's such an awful place.
The whole world out there hates us,
This board is a disgrace!

Marty: It's like we're in Hell or something!
Doc: No, it's Hill Valley, although I can't imagine Hell being much worse.

At this point, though, I've got to admit that staying in Kirkwall is foolhardy. Between the blood mages, the fascist templars, the enraged Qunari and the Chantry fanatics, this town is starting to make me feel wistful for the Darkspawn. At least they never acted like their horrors were somehow justified: when they'd slit your throat, they did it for the sheer pleasure of watching you bleed. They didn't make a speech beforehand about how it was "the right thing to do."

Kara: I'm surprised they put [the radio station] in the bad part of town.
Barry: It's cute how you think there's a good part of town.
[heavily armored van drives up, military guards pile out to protect a man with shopping bags]
Kara: Looks like the one percenters bring the good part with them.
Oliver: This is why nobody talks about Gotham, okay? City might as well be dead.

What can one say of Commorragh, the Dark City of the Eldar? It is the embodiment of anarchy and terror. It is fear, hatred and desperation incarnate. How long I was enslaved in that timeless city, I cannot say. There is no day or night, just an eternal twilight, an ever-present ruddy glow that bathes all things in blood-light. The air is filled with screams and cruel laughter. When they put out my eyes, my ears alone still conveyed the omnipresent aura of dread and loathing.
Warhammer 40,000: Codex - Dark Eldar (2nd ed)


How well does it match the trope?

Example of:


Media sources: