Quotes About Unconventional

I do like to do mad stuff on occasions.

In the beginning the point was not to have a point, to escape the world in which everyone had to have a job, a desk, an office.

No army had ever fragmented itself like that before, but ender was not planning to do anything that had been done before, either.

Speculative fiction by definition is geared toward an audience that wants strangeness, an audience that wants to spend time in worlds that absolutely are not like the observable world around them.

One should always be a little improbable.

I am one of those who are made for exceptions, not for laws.

An old man in a tyrolean costume was shuffling among the rough tables with his hat outheld while a little girl in a smock cranked a barrel organ and a bear in a crinoline twirled strangely upon a board stage defined by a row of tallow candles that dripped and sputtered in their pools of grease.

A halfman on a skatecart oared past with leather chocks.

It was like finding Attila the Hun at a yoga class. Like finding Darth Vader playing ultimate Frisbee in the park. Like finding Megatron volunteering at a children's hospital. Like finding Nightmare Moon having a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.

I want to open myself up, I want to experience other dimensions, I don't want to be bound by the rules of this world. Does that make me a freak?

Unthinkable clothing

I too am not a bit tamed . . . . I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

Sometimes, to relieve stress, he would soak his feet in the toilet, a practice that was not as soothing for his collegues.

Because a lot of people think they're crazy, but in that craziness we see genius.

Leonardo remains weird, matchlessly weird, and nothing to be done about it.

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

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.

Half the time he seems autistic, the rest of the time he's like a lizard jacked full of lithium and speed. These things do not promote love in most of us.

I feel...a terrible need to piss in a Christening font.

Maybe it came from whacking at two-by-fours and dreaming about perpetual motion. I don't know. All I know is that compared to her, Shelly and Miranda seemed so... ordinary. I'd never felt like this before. Ever. And just admitting it to myself instead of hiding from it made me feel strong. Happy. I took off my shoes and socks and stuffed them in the basket. My tie whipped over my shoulder as I ran home barefoot, and realized that Garrett was right about one thing- I had flipped. Completely.

All I know is that compared to her, Shelly and Miranda seemed so… ordinary.

Some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss…." He turned to me. "But every once in a while you find someone who's iridescent, and when you do, nothing will ever compare.

The perfect lover is one who turns into a pizza at 4:oo AM

I spent six hours becoming one with a shrubbery last night. There were three cloudbursts and a rain of small and very confused frogs