These Edward Blake a.k.a The Comedian quotes are from the jester of Watchmen. There are so many Edward Blake quotes that can help you when you are tired of being in the same old rut, and all you need is a little push, a little inspiration, a smile on the face, change of mood, bring you out of the banality of life, make you laugh a little, or may even make you cry a bit, and these Edward Blake quotes exists just do that.
Edward Morgan Blake alias Edward Blake appeared during the period 1924 – 1985. Edward Blake was better referred to general society as The Comedian is a principle character in Watchmen. Edward Blake is one of the main conceal travelers alongside Captain Metropolis to be an individual from both the Minutemen and the Crimebusters and had been dynamic for forty-five years through the guide of government-supported exercises and the press conjuring him into an energetic image of war and triumph. Blake is a stogie eating, firearm toting vigilante turned paramilitary specialist. The Comedian Edward Blake was conceived in the year 1924 as Edward Morgan Blake. Nothing is thought about Edward Blake’s initial life. As indicated by him and his case manager Edward Blake encountered awful mishaps amid his youth, coming about to snapshots of uncontrolled anger. When Edward Blake was 16 he was captured by the New York Juvenile Correctional Services.
When Edward Blake previously turned into a costumed swashbuckler in the year 1939, Hollis Mason had depicted him as an ‘especially horrendous and fierce young fellow’ who was a viable vigilante, figuring out how to erase most sorted out wrongdoing from the New York harbor. In one of those endeavors, Edward Blake beat each hooligan in The Bloody Ear down with a baseball bat. In the fall of that year, Edward Blake read an ad in the New York Gazette composed by Nelson Gardner with the assistance of Laurence Schexnayder that asked all other covered swashbucklers to venture forward, a unification that brought forth the Minutemen. Since Edward Blake was the most youthful individual from the gathering he had constantly made jokes that he would outlast and even cover every one of them, just as continually having been coquettish with individual Minuteman Silk Specter. After a photo shoot in the year 1940, Edward Blake explicitly struck Sally Jupiter who was around three years more seasoned than him while she was getting dressed. As she shouted ‘no’ to his lewd gestures, Edward Blake endured and she tore him in the face. Edward Blake punched her in the stomach and face until blood was spilling from her mouth and laid her on the ground scarcely ready to move.
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“I fear the carnival of crime is beginning on our border.”
“No. Not even in the face of Armageddon. Never compromise.”
“Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends.”
“It’s early days. A few skeletons are bound to keep jumping out of the closet.”
“Things have their forms not only in space, but also in time.”
“I may err in judgment, but I hope not in intention.”
“As far as I can judge, not much good can be done without disturbing something or somebody.”
“The accumulation of personal wealth and the extension of commercial transactions have developed a great and lamentable increase in certain classes of crimes, while the improvements in transport have largely facilitated the escape of fugitive criminals.”
“Heard joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he’s depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says, “Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.” Man bursts into tears. Says, “But doctor…I am Pagliacci.”
“Stood in firelight, sweltering. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent. Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night.
Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else.
Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It’s us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world.
Does that answer your Questions, Doctor?”
“All we ever see of stars are their old photographs.”
“None of you understand. I’m not locked up in here with YOU. You’re locked up in here with ME.”
“Thermodynamic miracles… events with odds against so astronomical they’re effectively impossible, like oxygen spontaneously becoming gold. I long to observe such a thing.
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 thermodynamic miracle.
But…if me, my birth, if that’s a thermodynamic miracle… I mean, you could say that about anybody in the world!.
Yes. Anybody in the world. ..But the world is so full of people, so crowded with these miracles that they become commonplace and we forget… I forget. We gaze continually at the world and it grows dull in our perceptions. Yet seen from the another’s vantage point. As if new, it may still take our breath away. Come…dry your eyes. For you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg; the clay in which the forces that shape all things leave their fingerprints most clearly. Dry your eyes… and let’s go home.”
“Roschach’s Journal: October 12th, 1985
Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown.
The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout “Save us!”… and I’ll look down and whisper “No.”
“We gaze continually at the world and it grows dull in our perceptions. Yet seen from another’s vantage point, as if new, it may still take the breath away.”
“There’s a notion I’d like to see buried: the ordinary person. Ridiculous. There is no ordinary person.”
“We’re all puppets, Laurie. I’m just a puppet who can see the strings.”
“Once you realize what a joke everything is, being the Comedian is the only thing that makes sense.”
“Why do we argue? Life’s so fragile, a successful virus clinging to a speck of mud, suspended in endless nothing.”
“There is no future. There is no past. Do you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet.”
“It is the oldest ironies that are still the most satisfying: man, when preparing for bloody war, will orate loudly and most eloquently in the name of peace.”
“In an era of stress and anxiety, when the present seems unstable and the future unlikely, the natural response is to retreat and withdraw from reality, taking recourse either in fantasies of the future or in modified visions of a half-imagined past.”
“Nite Owl II: But the country’s disintegrating. What’s happened to America? What’s happened to the American dream?
The Comedian: It came true. You’re lookin’ at it.”
“Real life is messy, inconsistent, and it’s seldom when anything ever really gets resolved. It’s taken me a long time to realize that.”
“You know what I wish? I wish all the scum of the Earth had one throat and I had my hands about it.”
“We have laboured long to build a heaven, only to find it populated with horrors.”
“It’s funny, but certain faces seem to go in and out of style. You look at old photographs and everybody has a certain look to them, almost as if they’re related. Look at pictures from ten years later and you can see that there’s a new kind of face starting to predominate, and that the old faces are fading away and vanishing, never to be seen again.”
“As I see it, part of the art of being a hero is knowing when you don’t need to be one anymore.”
“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?”
“I sat on the bed. I looked at the Rorschach blot. I tried to make it look like a spreading tree, shadows pooled beneath it, but it didn’t. It looked more like a dead cat I once found, the fat, glistening grubs writhing blindly, squirming over each other, frantically tunneling away from the light. But even that isn’t the real horror. The horror is this: in the end, it is simply a picture of empty meaningless blackness.”
“I live my life free of compromise, and step into the shadows without complaint or regret.”
“Who makes the world? Perhaps the world is not made. Perhaps nothing is made. Perhaps it simply is, has been, will always be there…a clock without a craftsman.”
“Never despair. Never surrender.”
“Dan, I’m not a Republic serial villain. Do you seriously think I’d explain my master-stroke if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting its outcome? I did it thirty-five minutes ago.”
“American love — like coke in green glass bottles…they don’t make it anymore.”
“The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout ‘SAVE US!’…and I’ll look down and whisper ‘No.”
“The photograph is in my hand. It is the photograph of a man and a woman. They are at an amusement park, in 1959. […] I’m tired of looking at the photograph now. I open my fingers. It falls to the sand at my feet. I am going to look at the stars. They are so far away, and their light takes so long to reach us… All we ever see of stars are their old photographs. […] It’s October, 1985. I’m basking in the two-million-year-old light of Andromeda. I can see the supernova that Ernst Hartwig discovered in 1885, a century ago. It scintillates, a wink intended for the Trilobites, all long dead. Supernovas are where gold forms; the only place. All gold comes from supernovas.”
“When the gap between the world of the city and the world my grandfather had presented to me as right and good became too wide and depressing to tolerate, I’d turn to my other great love, which was pulp adventure fiction. Despite the fact that [he] would have had nothing but scorn and loathing for all of those violent and garish magazines, there was a sort of prevailing morality in them that I’m sure he would have responded to. The world of Doc Savage and The Shadow was one of absolute values, where what was good was never in the slightest doubt and where what was evil inevitably suffered some fitting punishment. The notion of good and justice espoused by Lamont Cranston with his slouch hat and blazing automatics seemed a long way from that of the fierce and taciturn old man I remembered sitting up alone into the Montana night with no company save his bible, but I can’t help feeling that if the two had ever met they’d have found something to talk about. For my part, all those brilliant and resourceful sleuths and heroes offered a glimpse of a perfect world where morality worked the way it was meant to. Nobody in Doc Savage’s world ever killed themselves except thwarted kamikaze assassins or enemy spies with cyanide capsules. Which world would you rather live in, if you had the choice?”
“Who watches the watchmen?”
“I am brother to dragons, and companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat.”
“I heard joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he’s depressed. Life seems harsh, and cruel. Says he feels all alone in threatening world. Doctor says: “Treatment is simple. The great clown – Pagliacci – is in town. Go see him. That should pick you up.” Man bursts into tears. “But doctor…” he says “I am Pagliacci.” Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.”
“Dr. Malcolm Long: Walter, is what happened to Kitty Genovese really proof that the whole of mankind is rotten? I think you’ve been conditioned with a negative worldview. There are good people, too, like…
Rorschach: Like you?
Dr. Malcolm Long: Me? Oh, well, I wouldn’t say that. I…
Rorschach: No. You just think it. Think you’re ‘good people’. Why are you spending so much time with me, Doctor?
Dr. Malcolm Long: Uh…well, because I care about you, and because I want to make you well…
Rorschach: Other people, down in cells. Behavior more extreme than mine. You don’t spend any time with them…but then, they’re not famous. Won’t get your name in the journals. You don’t want to make me well. Just want to know what makes me sick. You’ll find out. Have patience, Doctor. You’ll find out.”
“For you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg; the clay in which the forces that shape all things leave their fingerprints most clearly.”
“Well, what do you expect? The Comedian is dead.”
“… and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout: ‘Save us!’. And I’ll look down and whisper: ‘No.”
“As I come to understand Vietnam and what it implies about the human condition, I also realize that few humans will permit themselves such an understanding.”
“It is the oldest ironies that are still the most satisfying: man, when preparing for bloody war, will orate loudly and most eloquently in the name of peace. This dichotomy is not an invention of the twentieth century, yet it is in this century that the most striking examples of the phenomena have appeared. Never before has man pursued global harmony more vocally while amassing stockpiles of weapons so devastating in their effect. The second world war – we were told – was The War to End All Wars. The development of the atomic bomb is the Weapon to End Wars.
And yet wars continue. Currently, no nation on this planet is not involved in some form of armed struggle, if not against its neighbors then against internal forces. Furthermore, as ever-escalating amounts of money are poured into the pursuit of the specific weapon or conflict that will bring lasting peace, the drain on our economies creates a rundown urban landscape where crime flourishes and people are concerned less with national security than with the simple personal security needed to stop at the store late a night for a quart of milk without being mugged. The places we struggled so viciously to keep safe are becoming increasingly dangerous. The wars to end wars, the weapons to end wars, these things have failed us.”
“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”
“Rorschach: Used to come here often, back when we were partners.
Dreiberg: Oh. Uh, yeah… yeah, those were great times, Rorschach. Great times. Whatever happened to them?
Rorschach: [exiting] You quit.”
“It was Kovacs who said “Mother” then, muffled under latex. It was Kovacs who closed his eyes. It was Rorschach who opened them again.”
“I am watching the stars, admiring their complex trajectories through space and time. I am trying to give a name to the force that set them in motion.”
“You are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg; the clay in which the forces that shape all things leave their fingerprints most clearly.”
“In 1965, worked with Nite Owl bringing street gangs under control. Tackled the Big Figure together. Brought down Underboss together. Good team.
Until he got soft, like rest. Until he quit.
No staying power. None of them. Except Comedian. Met him in 1966. Forceful personality. Didn’t care if people liked him. Uncompromising. Admired that.
Of us all, he understood most. About world. About people. About society and what’s happening to it.
Things everyone knows in gut. Things everyone too scared to face, too polite to talk about. He understood.
Understood man’s capacity for horrors and never quit. Saw the world’s black underbelly and never surrendered. Once man has seen, he can never turn his back on it. Never pretend it doesn’t exist.
No matter who orders him to look the other way.
We do not do this thing because it is permitted. We do it because we have to.
We do it because we are compelled.”
“Jon, wait before leave… I did the right thing didn’t I? It all worked out in the end.
In the end’? Nothing ends Adrian. Nothing ever ends.
Jon? Wait! What do you mean by …”
“I am going to look at the stars. They are so far away, and their light takes so long to reach us. All we ever see of stars are their old photographs.”
“I am tired of this world, these people. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.”
“People’s lives take them strange places. They do strange things, and… well, sometimes they can’t talk about them.”
“Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else. Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It’s us. Only us.”
“Soon there will be war. Millions will burn. Millions will perish in sickness and misery. Why does one death matter against so many? Because there is good and there is evil, and evil must be punished. Even in the face of Armageddon I shall not compromise in this. But there are so many deserving of retribution … and there is so little time.”
“Nite-Owl: Rorschach…? Rorschach, wait! Where are you going? This is too big to be hard-assed about! We have to compromise!
Rorschach: No. Not even in the face of Armageddon. Never compromise.”
“Benny Anger: What’s up, doc?
Doc Manhattan: “Up” is a relative concept; it has no intrinsic value.”
“I still can’t believe it . . . him comin’ here everyday, nobody realizin’. Still, that’s life: lotta stuff happens under the waterline.”
“I did it thirty-five minutes ago.”
“I’m 65 years old. Everyday the future looks a little bit darker. But the past, even the grimy parts of it, well, it just keeps on getting brighter all the time.”
“Nothing is insoluble. Nothing is hopeless. Not while there’s life.”
“Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? – Who watches the watchmen?”
“This city is dying of rabies. Is the best I can do to wipe random flecks of foam from its lips?”
“Through my blue fingers, pink grains are falling, haphazard, random, a disorganized stream of silicone that seems pregnant with the possibility of every conceivable shape… But this is illusion. Things have their shape in time, not space alone. Some marble blocks have statues within them, embedded in their future.”
“They claim their labours are to build a heaven yet their heaven is populated with horrors. Perhaps the world is not made. Perhaps nothing is made. A clock without a craftsman. It’s too late. Always has been, always will be…too late.”
“What does fighting crime mean, exactly? Does it mean upholding the law when a woman shoplifts to feed her children, or does it mean struggling to uncover the ones who, quite legally, have brought about her poverty?”
“Nothing’s that simple, not even things that are simply awful.”
“You see, Doctor, God didn’t kill that little girl. Fate didn’t butcher her and destiny didn’t feed her to those dogs. If God saw what any of us did that night he didn’t seem to mind. From then on I knew… God doesn’t make the world this way. We do.”
“Janey accuses me of chasing jailbait. She bursts into angry tears, asking if it’s because she’s getting older. It’s true. She’s aging more noticeably every day—while I am standing still. I prefer the stillness here. I am tired of Earth. These people. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.”
“We are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later.”
“The Rudderless World is not shaped by vague metaphysical Forces. It is not God who kills the Children. Not Fate that butchers them or Destiny that feeds them to the Dogs. … It´s us. Only us.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Adrian. I’m very disappointed. Reassembling myself was the first trick I learned. It didn’t kill Osterman. Did you really think it would kill me? I have walked across the surface of the sun. I have witnessed events so tiny and so fast, they could hardly be said to have occurred at all. But you, Adrian, you’re just a man. The world’s smartest man poses no more threat to me than does its smartest termite.”
“Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose.”
“They say we have we created the man to end all wars; I say we have created a man to end all worlds.”
“Does the human heart know chasms so abysmal?”
“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.”
“The dusk reeks of fornication and bad consciences.”
“Adrian Veidt: I did the right thing, didn’t I? It all worked out in the end.
Dr. Manhattan: ‘In the end’? Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends.”
“A world grows up around me. Am I shaping it, or do its predetermined contours guide my hand?”
“Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves; go into oblivion. There is nothing else. Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It’s us. Only us.”
“Once a man has seen society’s black underbelly, he can never turn his back on it. Never pretend, like you do, that it doesn’t exist.”
“Truly, whoever we are, wherever we reside, we exist upon the whim of murderers.”
“Please! Don’t all leave. Somebody has to do it, don’t you see? Somebody has to save the world…”
“The superman exists and he’s American.”
“Blake understood. Treated it like a joke, but he understood. He saw the cracks in society, saw the little men in masks trying to hold it together…he saw the true face of the twentieth century and chose to become a reflection of it, a parody of it. No one else saw the joke. That’s why he was lonely.”
“Things are tough all over, cupcake, an’ it rains on the just an’ the unjust alike…except in California.”
“The disciplines of physical exercise, meditation and study aren’t terribly esoteric. The means to attain a capability far beyond that of the so-called ordinary person are within the reach of everyone, if their desire and their will are strong enough. I have studied science, art, religion and a hundred different philosophies. Anyone could do as much. By applying what you learn and ordering your thoughts in an intelligent manner it is possible to accomplish almost anything. Possible for an ‘ordinary person.’ There’s a notion I’d like to see buried: the ordinary person. Ridiculous. There is no ordinary person.”
“Dan: We’re looking at World War Three within the WEEK! I mean, what do we DO? The stakes are so high and humanity is so close to the edge…
Rorschach: Some of us have always lived on edge, Daniel. It is possible to survive there if you observe rules: Just hang on by fingernails… and never look down.”
“I leave the human cockroaches to discuss their heroin and child pornography.”
“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.”
“Laurie:Uh-huh. Ahuhuhuh… Jeez, y’know, that felt good. There don’t seem to be that many laughs around these days.
Dan: Well, what do you expect? The Comedian is dead.”
“Without my face, nobody knows. Nobody knows who I am.”
“Don’t tell me they didn’t have a choice. Now the whole world stands on the brink, staring down into bloody hell, all those liberals and intellectuals and smooth-talkers… and all of a sudden, nobody can think of anything to say.”
“When it’s done, only our enemies leave roses.”
“Professor Einstein says that time differs from place to place. Can you imagine? If time is not true, what purpose have watchmakers, hein?”
“Come…dry your eyes, for you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond dreams of Heisenberg; the clay in which the forces that shape all things leave their fingerprints most clearly.”
“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.”
“Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains…”
“It doesn’t matter how “successful” each of us is in life. We’re all doomed to die. Why can’t anyone else see that?”
“…But the world is so full of people, so crowded with these miracles that they become commonplace and we forget. We gaze continually at the world and it grows dull in our perceptions. Yet seen from another’s vantage point, as if new, it may still take the breath away.”