MaidOfDoom



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  1. Public Bookmark 71

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    "They'd each been there, just once, spending as little time as possible in the room and, in [the southern pansy's] case, trying not to touch any flat surface. The other one, the flash southern bastard in the sunglasses, was—Shadwell suspected—not someone he ought to offend. In Shadwell's simple world, anyone in sunglasses who wasn't actually on a beach was probably a criminal. He suspected that Crowley was from the Mafia, or the underworld, although he would have been surprised how right he nearly was. But the soft one in the camelhair coat was a different matter, and he'd risked trailing him back to his base once, and he could remember the way. He thought Aziraphale was a Russian spy. He could ask him for money. Threaten him a bit."

    Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

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    15 Aug 2021

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “[A]ngels are sexless unless they really want to make an effort.”

    Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

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    15 Aug 2021

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    "The crux of it, Crowley decided, was that demons were not supposed to want.

    Or – well, that wasn’t strictly true. Certain things, such as material wealth and the corruption of innocents and the eventual triumph of Hell over Heaven, and possibly Earth as well, were perfectly all right. The fact that he didn’t particularly care about any of these things just served to add a little extra salt to the wound.

    It wasn’t a question of wanting. It was a question of wanting the wrong things."

    Crowley, Aziraphale, and a series of religious buildings.

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    14 Aug 2021

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    13 Aug 2021

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Across the floor, Aziraphale has stilled.

    ‘Loved love, Augustine,’ Crowley picks up, voice quiet, looking at the red-streaked open palm of his hand. ‘How noble. But what if he couldn’t? Theory. Theory’s one thing, but—ah, has no one ever done it the wrong way? No one envied, loved the wrong thing, for the wrong reason, in the worst of circumstances? Has no one ever hated love? It hurts, doesn’t it? It must hurt. Else what would be the point of all the self-denial.’

    [Aziraphale and Crowley after the Apocalypse, on the brink of becoming something else than they have been, with all the doubts and apprehensions to still approach and work through.]

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    09 Aug 2021