Mutilation Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
when-body-escaped-mutilation-seldom-did-heart-go-to-grave-unscarred-virginia-woolf
selfmutilation-is-frightening-barrier-that-keeps-us-from-seeing-person-who-is-lost-in-pain-in-desperate-need-help-steven-levenkron
the-mutilation-savage-has-its-tragic-survival-in-selfdenial-that-mars-our-lives-oscar-wilde
lust-selfmutilation-are-closely-related-impulses-there-are-also-selfmutilators-among-knowers-they-do-not-want-to-be-creators-under-any-circumstances-friedrich-nietzsche
selfdenial-is-simply-method-by-which-arrests-his-progress-selfsacrifice-survival-mutilation-savage-oscar-wilde
a-writer-should-always-bravely-face-life-risking-death-mutilation-in-order-to-dethrone-emperor-mo-yan
now-i-know-why-women-get-their-ears-pierced-once-theyve-survived-this-ordeal-mutilation-they-can-face-discomforts-childbirth-with-equanimity-cd-payne
because-women-girls-are-not-valued-equally-as-human-beings-they-are-treated-as-less-than-such-female-genital-mutilation-is-one-example-this-that-has-waris-dirie
the-corset-is-mutilation-undergone-for-purpose-lowering-subjects-vitalityand-rendering-her-permanentlyand-obviously-unfit-for-work-thorstein-veblen
rape-mutilation-abuse-theft-are-natural-outcome-world-in-which-force-rules-in-which-human-beings-are-objects
they-raise-their-blades-to-throats-their-men-climax-approaches-blood-will-spill-sexual-sacrifice-mutilation-death-cannibal-corpse
there-seems-to-be-this-sense-among-even-wellmeaning-americans-that-africa-is-this-black-hole-murder-mutilation-that-can-never-be-fixed-no-matter-nicholas-d-kristof
its-bizarre-act-selfmutilation-to-say-that-i-dont-get-on-with-science-fiction-fantasy-therefore-im-never-going-to-read-any-what-shame-all-those-great-books-that-youre-cutting-you
misery-mutilation-destruction-terror-starvation-death-characterize-process-war-form-principal-part-product-lewis-mumford
i-had-grown-up-in-humanist-atmosphere-war-to-me-was-never-anything-but-horror-mutilation-senseless-destruction-i-knew-that-many-great-wise-people-george-grosz
i-do-love-sharks-the-tuna-fishermen-go-fin-sharks-dump-em-back-into-ocean-its-basically-mutilation-brooke-burns
maybe-writing-cant-be-taught-but-editing-can-be-taughtprayer-fasting-selfmutilation-donald-barthelme
this-mutilation-west-bank-is-deliberate-political-strategic-israeli-measure-aimed-at-annihilating-palestinian-dreams-for-viable-palestinian-state-for-fifty-years-to-come-abdullah
Why should I give up revenge? On behalf of what? Moral principles? And what of the higher order of things, in which evil deeds are punished? For you, a philosopher and ethicist, an act of revenge is bad, disgraceful, unethical and illegal. But I ask: where is the punishment for evil? Who has it and grants access? The Gods, in which you do not believe? The great demiurge-creator, which you decided to replace the gods with? Or maybe the law? [... ] I know what evil is afraid of. Not your ethics, Vysogota, not your preaching or moral treaties on the life of dignity. Evil is afraid of pain, mutilation, suffering and at the end of the day, death! The dog howls when it is badly wounded! Writhing on the ground and growls, watching the blood flow from its veins and arteries, seeing the bone that sticks out from a stump, watching its guts escape its open belly, feeling the cold as death is about to take them. Then and only then will evil begin to beg, 'Have mercy! I regret my sins! I'll be good, I swear! Just save me, do not let me waste away!'. Yes, hermit. That is the way to fight evil! When evil wants to harm you, inflict pain - anticipate them, it's best if evil does not expect it. But if you fail to prevent evil, if you have been hurt by evil, then avenge him! It is best when they have already forgotten, when they feel safe. Then pay them in double. In triple. An eye for an eye? No! Both eyes for an eye! A tooth for a tooth? No! All their teeth for a tooth! Repay evil! Make it wail in pain, howling until their eyes pop from their sockets. And then, you can look under your feet and boldly declare that what is there cannot endanger anyone, cannot hurt anyone. How can someone be a danger, when they have no eyes? How can someone hurt when they have no hands? They can only wait until they bleed to death.

Andrzej Sapkowski
why-should-i-give-up-revenge-on-behalf-what-moral-principles-and-what-higher-order-things-in-which-evil-deeds-are-punished-for-you-philosopher-ethicist-act-revenge-is-bad-disgrac
Live or die, but don't poison everything... Well, death's been here for a long time - it has a hell of a lot to do with hell and suspicion of the eye and the religious objects and how I mourned them when they were made obscene by my dwarf-heart's doodle. The chief ingredient is mutilation. And mud, day after day, mud like a ritual, and the baby on the platter, cooked but still human, cooked also with little maggots, sewn onto it maybe by somebody's mother, the damn bitch! Even so, I kept right on going on, a sort of human statement, lugging myself as if I were a sawed-off body in the trunk, the steamer trunk. This became perjury of the soul. It became an outright lie and even though I dressed the body it was still naked, still killed. It was caught in the first place at birth, like a fish. But I play it, dressed it up, dressed it up like somebody's doll. Is life something you play? And all the time wanting to get rid of it? And further, everyone yelling at you to shut up. And no wonder! People don't like to be told that you're sick and then be forced to watch you come down with the hammer. Today life opened inside me like an egg and there inside after considerable digging I found the answer. What a bargain! There was the sun, her yolk moving feverishly, tumbling her prize - and you realize she does this daily! I'd known she was a purifier but I hadn't thought she was solid, hadn't known she was an answer. God! It's a dream, lovers sprouting in the yard like celery stalks and better, a husband straight as a redwood, two daughters, two sea urchings, picking roses off my hackles. If I'm on fire they dance around it and cook marshmallows. And if I'm ice they simply skate on me in little ballet costumes. Here, all along, thinking I was a killer, anointing myself daily with my little poisons. But no. I'm an empress. I wear an apron. My typewriter writes. It didn't break the way it warned. Even crazy, I'm as nice as a chocolate bar. Even with the witches' gymnastics they trust my incalculable city, my corruptible bed. O dearest three, I make a soft reply. The witch comes on and you paint her pink. I come with kisses in my hood and the sun, the smart one, rolling in my arms. So I say Live and turn my shadow three times round to feed our puppies as they come, the eight Dalmatians we didn't drown, despite the warnings: The abort! The destroy! Despite the pails of water that waited, to drown them, to pull them down like stones, they came, each one headfirst, blowing bubbles the color of cataract-blue and fumbling for the tiny tits. Just last week, eight Dalmatians, 3/4 of a lb., lined up like cord wood each like a birch tree. I promise to love more if they come, because in spite of cruelty and the stuffed railroad cars for the ovens, I am not what I expected. Not an Eichmann. The poison just didn't take. So I won't hang around in my hospital shift, repeating The Black Mass and all of it. I say Live, Live because of the sun, the dream, the excitable gift.

Anne Sexton
live-die-but-dont-poison-everything-well-deaths-been-here-for-long-time-it-has-hell-lot-to-do-with-hell-suspicion-eye-religious-objects-how-i-mourned-them-when-they-were-made-obs
Let us fool ourselves no longer. At the very moment Western nations, threw off the ancient regime of absolute government, operating under a once-divine king, they were restoring this same system in a far more effective form in their technology, reintroducing coercions of a military character no less strict in the organization of a factory than in that of the new drilled, uniformed, and regimented army. During the transitional stages of the last two centuries, the ultimate tendency of this system might b e in doubt, for in many areas there were strong democratic reactions; but with the knitting together of a scientific ideology, itself liberated from theological restrictions or humanistic purposes, authoritarian technics found an instrument at hand that h as now given it absolute command of physical energies of cosmic dimensions. The inventors of nuclear bombs, space rockets, and computers are the pyramid builders of our own age: psychologically inflated by a similar myth of unqualified power, boasting through their science of their increasing omnipotence, if not omniscience, moved by obsessions and compulsions no less irrational than those of earlier absolute systems: particularly the notion that the system itself must be expanded, at whatever eventual co st to life. Through mechanization, automation, cybernetic direction, this authoritarian technics has at last successfully overcome its most serious weakness: its original dependence upon resistant, sometimes actively disobedient servomechanisms, still human enough to harbor purposes that do not always coincide with those of the system. Like the earliest form of authoritarian technics, this new technology is marvellously dynamic and productive: its power in every form tends to increase without limits, in quantities that defy assimilation and defeat control, whether we are thinking of the output of scientific knowledge or of industrial assembly lines. To maximize energy, speed, or automation, without reference to the complex conditions that sustain organic life, have become ends in themselves. As with the earliest forms of authoritarian technics, the weight of effort, if one is to judge by national budgets, is toward absolute instruments of destruction, designed for absolutely irrational purposes whose chief by-product would be the mutilation or extermination of the human race. Even Ashurbanipal and Genghis Khan performed their gory operations under normal human limits. The center of authority in this new system is no longer a visible personality, an all-powerful king: even in totalitarian dictatorships the center now lies in the system itself, invisible but omnipresent: all its human components, even the technical and managerial elite, even the sacred priesthood of science, who alone have access to the secret knowledge by means of which total control is now swiftly being effected, are themselves trapped by the very perfection of the organization they have invented. Like the Pharoahs of the Pyramid Age, these servants of the system identify its goods with their own kind of well-being: as with the divine king, their praise of the system is an act of self-worship; and again like the king, they are in the grip of an irrational compulsion to extend their means of control and expand the scope of their authority. In this new systems-centered collective, this Pentagon of power, there is no visible presence who issues commands: unlike job's God, the new deities cannot be confronted, still less defied. Under the pretext of saving labor, the ultimate end of this technics is to displace life, or rather, to transfer the attributes of life to the machine and the mechanical collective, allowing only so much of the organism to remain as may be controlled and manipulated.

Lewis Mumford
let-us-fool-ourselves-no-longer-at-moment-western-nations-threw-off-ancient-regime-absolute-government-operating-under-oncedivine-king-they-were-restoring-this-same-system-in-far
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