Alan Moore Quotes

As I see it,part of the art of being a hero is knowing when you don't need to be one anymore,realizing that the game has changed and that the stakes are different and that there isn't necessarily a place for you in this strange new pantheon of extraordinary people.

"No creo que tu vida no tenga sentido. He cambiado de opinión. Los milagros termodinámicos… son unos sucesos con unas probabilidades tan remotas de que lleguen a producirse que prácticamente resulta imposible que acaben dándose. Por ejemplo: que el oxígeno se transforme de manera espontánea en oro. Tengo muchas ganas de ver algo así. Y aún así, en cada apareamiento humano, mil millones de espermatozoides compiten para llegar a un solo óvulo. Multiplica esas posibilidades por las innumerables generaciones que ha habido de seres humanos, por las posibilidades de que tus antepasados vivieran, se conocieran, engendraran a ese hijo en concreto, a esa hija exactamente… hasta llegar a tu madre, que se enamorará de un hombre al que tiene todas las razones del mundo para odiar y de esa unión, de los miles de millones de niños que compiten para lograr fecundar el óvulo, fuiste tú, sólo tú, la que surgió. Destilar una forma tan específica a partir de tal caos de improbabilidades resulta tan difícil como que el aire se transforme en oro… El cenit de lo imposible. Un milagro termodinámico. Se podría decir eso de cualquier persona del mundo. Pero el planeta está tan lleno de gente, tan repleto de milagros, que acabamos considerándolos algo normal y olvidamos lo que son… Yo lo olvidé. Contemplamos la Tierra día tras día hasta que acaba convirtiéndose en un lugar al que consideramos monótono. Pero visto desde otro punto de vista, como si fuera algo nuevo, aún es capaz de asombrarnos. Ven, seca tus lágrimas, porque eres vida, algo más excepcional que un quark y más impredecible que lo que Heisenberg soñó jamás: la arcilla en la que las fuerzas que dan forma a todas las cosas dejan sus huellas de un modo más claro. Seca tus lágrimas… y volvamos a casa." Dr. Manhattan, WATCHMEN, Alan Moore

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?

He also mused that, as he was writing ‘V for Vendetta’ in 1981, he didn’t quite imagine how certain world-building elements he used would actually come true. One of the features of the novel’s 1997 dystopian society was all-pervasive government surveillance. Imagine my surprise when the Tony Blair Labour government – which was basically a different flavor of Conservative government... came into power in 1997 and immediately rolled out security cameras across the entire country. I wondered whether they had perhaps been enormous ‘V for Vendetta’ fans in their youth.

Things are tough all over, cupcake, an' it rains on the just an' the unjust alike...except in California.

Some things are hard to imagine. Can you conceive of excessive contentment, for example? Or an over pleasant evening? Too much happiness?

Okay. There it is. I dressed up. As an owl. And fought crime. Perhaps you begin to see why I half expect this summary of my career to raise more laughs than poor cuckolded Moe Vernon with his foam teats and his Wagner could ever hoped to have done.

What had originally been a straightforward battle of ideas between anarchy and fascism had been turned into a kind of ham-fisted parable of 9-11 and the war against terror, in which the words anarchy and fascism appear nowhere. … It struck me that for Hollywood to make V for Vendetta, it was a way for thwarted and impotent American liberals to feel that they were making some kind of statement about how pissed off they were with the current situation without really risking anything. It’s all set in England, which I think that probably, in most American eyes, is kind of a fairytale kingdom where we still perhaps still have giants. It doesn’t really exist; it might as well be in the Land of Oz for most Americans. So you can get set your political parable in this fantasy environment called England, and then you can vent your spleen against George Bush and the neo-conservatives. Those were my feelings, and I must admit those are completely based upon not having seen the film even once, but having read a certain amount of the screenplay. That was enough.

Yes, there is a conspiracy, in fact there are a great number of conspiracies that are all tripping each other up. And all of those conspiracies are run by paranoid fantasists and ham-fisted clowns. If you are on a list targeted by the CIA, you really have nothing to worry about. If however, you have a name similar to somebody on a list targeted by the CIA, then you are dead.

Truly, life is hell and death's rough hand our only deliverance.

But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you. I love you. With all my heart, I love you.

And yet, in each human coupling, a thousand million sperm vie for a single egg.
Multiply those odds by countless generations, against the odds of your ancestors being alive; meeting; siring this precise son; that exact daughter… Until your mother loves a man she has every reason to hate, and of that union, of the thousand million children competing for fertilization, it was you, only you, that emerged. To distill so specific a form from that chaos of improbability, like turning air to gold… that is the crowning unlikelihood. The thermo-dynamic miracle.

We are approaching a more fluid state. I have talked about cultural boiling. The idea of the phase-transition period which, in fractal mathematics, is the chaotic flux between one state and another. …Culturally, and as a species, we are approaching a phase-transition. I don’t know quite what that means, on a human level.

Consciousness, unprovable by scientific standards, is forever, then, the impossible phantom in the predictable biologic machine, and your every thought a genuine supernatural event. Your every thought is a ghost, dancing.

Reality, at first glance, is a simple thing: the television speaking to you now is real. Your body sunk into that chair in the approach to midnight, a clock ticking at the threshold of awareness. All the endless detail of a solid and material world surrounding you. These things exist. They can be measured with a yardstick, a voltammeter, a weighing scale. These things are real.