Quotes About Cult

For the student of war, the Horn of Africa offers a cornucopia of violence and destruction. It has interstate wars and civil wars; international military interventions and maritime piracy; genocidal massacres and non-violent popular uprisings; conventional wars fought in trenches and irregular wars fought by jihadists and followers of a messianic cult.

For at least a century, the music has been captive to a cult of mediocre elitism that tries to manufacture self-esteem by clutching at empty formulas of intellectual superiority.

I love cult movies. I probably have watched 'Big Trouble In Little China' more than anyone on the planet.

I think 'Teenage Wasteland' was one of those cult hits like 'My So-Called Life', something that came along and got a lot of viewers and then somehow fell into a bad timeslot that nobody ever watched, and then the network pulled the plug prematurely.

A cult following is a nice way of saying very few people like you.

'Swept Away' is one of my favorite films of my father. I've seen it about 20 times. It's a cult movie in Italy.

There are no simple congruities in life or history. The cult of happiness erroneously assumes them.

A flick of a switch reveals a space half homeless-person's midden, half pharaonic tomb. Talismans everywhere: totems, drawings, and cargo cult, laid out on plywood planks spread across sawhorses.

Nor could they compete very well with the immensity of the Stalin cult in all its forms: the parades celebrating Stalin as a god on earth, the newspapers describing his heroic deeds, the radio addresses, the history books written by the Kremlin ideologists, the rallies and paramilitary drills of the Young Pioneers.

Day after day, for more than seven weeks, the audience heard lurid stories of wild sex, biblical rantings, beaten babies, and armed fanatics ready to fight and die for their crazy notions of heaven and hell at the command of a madman.

In today's media-saturated climate, the word "cult" is an instant road sign for the audience: WARNING: WEIRDOS AHEAD.

Sadly, the now-accepted, international church forgot that it, too, was once considered a mere cult.

History suggests that a cult graduates into a church if it outlives its founders.

Having been tagged a "cult" by the government and the media, we became fair game, removed beyond the bounds of common sympathy.

Hope springs eternal, unfortunately it springs from a well poisoned with Jim Jones' Kool Aid

It was a good thing that I raised egoistic masturbation to the dignity of a cult! I have only to begin the gesture and a kind of unclean and supernatural transposition displaces the truth. Everything within me turns worshipper. The external vision of the props of my desire isolates me, far from the world.

On Jones's instruction, Larry Schacht ordered one pound of sodium cyanide, enough for 1,800 lethal doses. It cost $8.85.

Charlie was booked as "MANSON, CHARLES M., AKA JESUS CHRIST, GOD.

Jones generally forbade drinking alcohol, but on this night at the Geary Boulevard temple he told the P.C. members that it was all right for once. Each of them drank some, and after their cups were emptied Jones informed them that their wine had been laced with poison—all of them would die within forty-five minutes to an hour. There was no antidote. They were doomed.

But there would come a terrible and obliterating day when beauty was the only thing that mattered, and it mattered little if the pure part of beauty was blood. And on that day, the globes embedded in the walls hurt to look upon because the price paid for the wonders displayed within was too high. It had become a death cult, under a veneer of what was inevitable and necessary, and anything else was illogical.

In the hierarchy of man's activities, eating was the lowest. Eating had become the object of a cult, but in fact it was but the preliminary to other, utterly contemptible motions. It occurred to him that he wanted to perform one of these too.

He was lost in the cult of artistic suffering, but he called that suffering by another name: dedication.

my entire life has been shaped by an early decision to reject the cult of artistic martyrdom, and instead to place my trust in the crazy notion that my work loves me as much as I love it—that it wants to play with me as much as I want to play with it—and that this source of love and play is boundless.

I have survived so long because I've been blessed with talented and gracious colleagues and with a top brass who let me choose my topics every week and then allowed me to express opinions that were not always popular. Well, someone had to stand up to the yackety-yak soccer cult.