Quotes from Warren Ellis

You people don't know what the truth is! It's there, just under the bullshit, but you never look! That's what I hate most about this fucking city-- Lies are news and truth is obsolete!

Think about it; the quicktank is given a job most of us would laugh out of town. Build a sophisticated camera capable of full 3-D input and peripheral pickup, using only water and jelly. Build an eye.

All the time, I was telling myself, just enjoy it for what it is, don't be weird, don't get all screwed up over something it isn't. The usual mantra when you're with someone who you're not really with and desperately want to be. Have you noticed how telling yourself all that shit never actually helps?

My neck and shoulders are killing me. Hard to focus on writing about murder, doom, shagging, our hopeless future & other comedy etc etc.

I wish I still had that photo.

You know what it's like, finding eight middle-aged guys having tantric sex with ostriches?

Why do I even have to say this? Why do I have to say Get off the unique and probably alien living plinth that zaps the unwary? What is wrong with my life that I have to say these things out loud...?

TRUTH comes easier when you're nine years old, too. Everything's a lot less complicated. This or that. Us or them. Truth or lie.

Gentrification had stopped dead several doors west of my spot overlooking Avenue B. You could actually see the line. That side of the line; Biafran cuisine, sparkling plastic secure window units, women called Imogen and Saffron, men called Josh and Morgan. My side of the line; crack whores, burned-out cars, bullets stuck in door frames, and men called Father-Eating Bastard. It's almost a point of honour to live near a crackhouse, like living in a pre-Rudy Zone, a piece of Old New York.

I partnered you with Jim all those years ago because you were complimentary kinds of crazy. You kept each other in check. I need you to not crawl back inside your own skull and watch the world with binoculars from deep cover.

Tallow walked into Bat and Scarly's office to find Bat slumped on a chair with his head on the workbench, turned away from the door, while Scarly softly sharpened on old straight razor on a worn strop, watching her partner intently. I don't think he needs his eyebrows, do you? I mean, they don't serve an immediate function or anything, she whispered.

Small things bring joy, somedays.

Ain't no Jesus in Snowtown, Detective.

I can't solve any problems. All I can do is try to make sure people can't avoid noticing them.

I'm going to shit in your lungs for this.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a very large man brandishing a bloodstained antique phone receiver in a plastic bag and proclaiming, I found this up him! You know, said Tallow, I really have no response to that.

Some asshole scraped the 'I' out of INVESTIGATOR with their keys six months ago. I simply can't be bothered to fix that one. For all the work I get, I may as well be an 'invest gator

Fuck me, Bat gasped, It's like an angel shat ice cream coffee rainbows in my mouth.

Bat stood in the open door and said I am a crime scene unit detective from the New York City Police Department, you heinous fucking mongoloid, and there is nothing I cannot do.

Ah, Hollywood. One day, you and I will play Operation. And I'll be the drunk, mad doctor with the hedge trimmer & you will wear the straps

He tried to close a hand around the precious coffee but had to jerk his fingers away, sharply enough that his wrist popped painfully. Tallow wondered if the other end of the coffee machine was slurping water out of a lake in Hell.

You want to go out to dinner sometime? Sorry, no. I'm married, not hungry, infected with seven unknown diseases, gay, pregnant with lizards and clinically dead.

The point is, the only real tools we have are our eyes and our heads. It's not the act of seeing with our eyes alone; it's correctly comprehending what we see. Treating life as an autopsy.

Yesterday, here in the middle of the City, I saw a wolf turn into a Russian ex-gymnast and hand over a business card that read YOUR OWN PERSONAL TRANSHUMAN SECURITY WHORE! STERILIZED INNARDS! ACCEPTS ALL CREDIT CARDS to a large man who had trained attack cancers on his face and possessed seventy-five indentured Komodo Dragons instead of legs. And they had sex. Right in front of me. And six of the Komodo Dragons spat napalm on my new shoes.