Borboros Quotes & Sayings

The Massalians are not dualists but monarchians, and they have dealings with the infernal powers, and in fact some texts call them Borborites, from borboros, filth, because of the unspeakable things they do."
"What do they do?"
"The usual unspeakable things. Men and women hold in the palm of their hand, and raise to heaven, their own ignominy, namely, sperm or menstruum, then eat it, calling it the Body of Christ. And if by chance a woman is made pregnant, at the opportune moment they stick a hand into her womb, pull out the embryo, throw it into a mortar, mix in some honey and pepper, and gobble it up."
"How revolting, honey and pepper!" Diotallevi said. — Umberto Eco

What is this war we are waging, when defeat is so certain? Day after day, already wearied by the constant onslaught, we face out terror of the everyday, the endless passageway that, in the end - because we have spent so much time walking to and fro between its walls -will become a destiny. Yes, my angel, that is our everyday existence: dreary, empty and mired in troubles. The pathways of hell are hardly foreign; we shall end up there one day if we tarry too long. — Muriel Barbery

Where are you in your cycle? Oh, WHO CARES? Let's get you two BUMPING right away. We don't want another trimester to go by with a FLAT TUMMY. And not to put any pressure on you or anything, but it would be just BREEDY if you could deliver the goods by next March. — Megan McCafferty

What self-respecting male wanted a job being photographed? — Jude Deveraux

A brief short story may require only a few paragraphs after the climax. On the other hand, in his massive novel 'The World According to Garp,' John Irving's denouement consisted of 10 separate sections, each devoted to an individual character's fate and each almost a story in itself. — Nancy Kress

Displaced Person's Song

If you see a train this evening,
Far away, against the sky,
Lie down in your woolen blanket,
Sleep and let the train go by.

Trains have called us, every midnight,
From a thousand miles away,
Trains that pass through empty cities,
Trains that have no place to stay.

No one drives the locomotive,
No one tends the staring light,
Trains have never needed riders,
Trains belong to bitter night.

Railway stations stand deserted,
Rights-of-way lie clear and cold,
What we left them, trains inherit,
Trains go on, and we grow old.

Let them cry like cheated lovers,
Let their cries find only wind,
Trains are meant for night and ruin,
And we are meant for song and sin. — Thomas Pynchon

Love isn't about what we did yesterday; it's about what we do today and tomorrow and the day after — Grace Lee Boggs

I've just been working hard, trying to get some good stuff to come out. — David Duval

Whenever a copyright law is to be made or altered, then the idiots assemble. — Mark Twain