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.

A live body and a dead body contain the same number of particles. Structurally, there's no discernible difference. Life and death are unquantifiable abstracts. Why should I be concerned?

I suppose that the main drive is to find the edge of something and then throw myself over it.

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

It was Kovacs who said "Mother" then, muffled under latex. It was Kovacs who closed his eyes. It was Rorschach who opened them again.

The magician to some degree is trying to drive him or herself mad in a controlled setting, within controlled laws.

I think that the Occupy movement is, in one sense, the public saying that they should be the ones to decide who's too big to fail.