Alan Moore Quotes

No. Not even in the face of Armageddon. Never compromise.

My experience of life is that it is not divided up into genres;

it’s a horrifying, romantic, tragic, comical, science-fiction cowboy detective novel. You know, with a bit of pornography if you're lucky.

There's no flesh or blood within this cloak to kill. There's only an idea. Ideas are bulletproof.

Remember, remember the fifth of November of gunpowder treason and plot.

I know of no reason why the gun powder treason should ever be forgot.

It was Kovacs who said "Mother" then, muffled under latex.

It was Kovacs who closed his eyes. It was Rorschach who opened them again.

Behind this mask there is more than just flesh.

Beneath this mask there is an idea... and ideas are bulletproof.

Once you realize what a joke everything is, being the Comedian is the only thing that makes sense.

You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it.

People shouldn't be afraid of their government. Governments should be afraid of their people.

A world grows up around me. Am I shaping it, or do its predetermined contours guide my hand?

I don’t think people realise how vital libraries are or what a colossal danger it would be if we were to lose any more. Having had a truncated school life myself, all of my education from the age of 17 has been self-taught. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it wasn’t for the opportunities the library gave me.

Ideas are bulletproof.

If light is outlawed, then only outlaws will be able to see where they're going.

The past can't hurt you anymore, not unless you let it.

In order to be able to make it, you have to put aside the fear of failing and the desire of succeeding. You have to do these things completely and purely without fear, without desire. Because things that we do without lust of result are the purest actions we shall ever take.

We're all puppets, Laurie. I'm just a puppet who can see the strings.

Nothing is insoluble. Nothing is hopeless. Not while there's life.

Authority, when first detecting chaos at its heels, will entertain the vilest schemes to save its orderly facade.

To some degree Satanism is purely a kind of disease of Christianity.

You've got to really be Christian to believe in Satan.

The multiplying villainies of nature do swarm upon him... [from Macbeth]

The entire universe - for one thing - only exists in your perceptions.

That's all you're gonna see of it. To all practical intents and purposes this is purely some kind of lightshow that's being put on in the kind of neurons in our brain. The whole of reality.

Look at him now, poor fellow. That's what a dose of reality does for you...Never touch the stuff myself, you understand. Find it gets in the way of the hallucinations.

Authority allows two roles: the torturer and the tortured.

Twists people into joyless mannequins that fear and hate, while culture plunges into the abyss.

Happiness is the most insidious prison of all.

Roses are red Violets are blue Everything's possible Nothing is true.

Everybody is special. Everybody. Everybody is a hero, a lover, a fool, a villain. Everybody. Everybody has their story to tell.

Since mankind's dawn, a handful of oppressors have accepted the responsibility over our lives that we should have accepted for ourselves. By doing so, they took our power. By doing nothing, we gave it away. We've seen where their way leads, through camps and wars, towards the slaughterhouse.

To paint comic books as childish and illiterate is lazy.

A lot of comic books are very literate - unlike most films.

There's no such thing as quitting. Just sometimes there's a longer pause between relapses.

Why do we argue? Life's so fragile, a successful virus clinging to a speck of mud, suspended in endless nothing.

I'm the king of the 20th century. I'm the boogeyman, the villian, the black sheep of the family.

On my fortieth birthday, rather than merely bore my friends by having anything as mundane as a midlife crisis I decided it might be more interesting to actually terrify them by going completely mad and declaring myself to be a magician.

Never despair. Never surrender.

...My point is, I went crazy. When I saw what a black, awful joke the world was. I went crazy as a coot! I admit it! Why can't you?

The only reality we can ever truly know is that of our perceptions, our own consciousness, while that consciousness, and thus our entire reality, is made of nothing but signs and symbols. Nothing but language. Even God requires language before conceiving the Universe. See Genesis: “In the beginning was the Word.

This city is dying of rabies. Is the best I can do to wipe random flecks of foam from its lips?

Memory's so treacherous. One moment you're lost in a carnival of delights with poignant childhood aromas, the flashing neon on puberty, all that sentimental candyfloss. The next, it leads you somewhere you don't want to go.. Somewhere dark and cold, filled with the damp ambiguous shapes of things you'd hoped were forgotten.

American love — like coke in green glass bottles...they don't make it anymore.

So when you find yourself locked onto an unpleasant train of thought, heading for the places in your past where the screaming is unbearable, remember there's always madness. Madness is the emergency exit.

I did it thirty-five minutes ago.

None of you understand. I'm not locked up in here with YOU. You're locked up in here with ME.

Madness is the emergency exit. You can just step outside, and close the door on all those dreadful things that happened. Forever.

In a sense, the story, or poem or verse or whatever it is you're writing, you can kind of think of it as a kind of projectile. Imagine it is a kind of projectile which has been specially shaped to be aerodynamic, and that your target is the soft grey putty of the reader's brain.

Now everything is wonderful and hazardous and nothing's hypothetical.

Blake understood. Treated it like a joke, but he understood. He saw the cracks in society, saw the little men in masks trying to hold it together...he saw the true face of the twentieth century and chose to become a reflection of it, a parody of it. No one else saw the joke. That's why he was lonely.

Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose.

Yes, of course, the whole idea is utterly inane, but to let its predictable inanities blind you to its truly fabulous and breathtaking aspects is to do both oneself and the genre a disservice.

Perhaps this is the purpose of all art, all writing, on the murders, fiction and non-fiction: Simply to participate.

Through my blue fingers, pink grains are falling, haphazard, random, a disorganized stream of silicone that seems pregnant with the possibility of every conceivable shape… But this is illusion. Things have their shape in time, not space alone. Some marble blocks have statues within them, embedded in their future.