7
" This is the great lesson the depressive learns: Nothing in the world is inherently compelling. Whatever may be really “out there” cannot project itself as an affective experience. It is all a vacuous affair with only a chemical prestige. Nothing is either good or bad, desirable or undesirable, or anything else except that it is made so by laboratories inside us producing the emotions on which we live. And to live on our emotions is to live arbitrarily, inaccurately—imparting meaning to what has none of its own. Yet what other way is there to live? Without the ever-clanking machinery of emotion, everything would come to a standstill. There would be nothing to do, nowhere to go, nothing to be, and no one to know. The alternatives are clear: to live falsely as pawns of affect, or to live factually as depressives, or as individuals who know what is known to the depressive. How advantageous that we are not coerced into choosing one or the other, neither choice being excellent. One look at human existence is proof enough that our species will not be released from the stranglehold of emotionalism that anchors it to hallucinations. That may be no way to live, but to opt for depression would be to opt out of existence as we consciously know it. "
― Thomas Ligotti , The Conspiracy Against the Human Race
14
" I suddenly remember being about seven, riding beside him in the car, and asking him how grown-ups found their way to places. After all, I had never seen him pull out a map." I guess we just get used to taking the same turns," he said, but I wasn't satisfied." Then what about the first time you go somewhere?" " Well," he said, " we get directions." But what I want to know is who got them the very first time? What if no one's ever been where you're going? " Dad?" I ask, " is it true that you can use stars like a map?" " Yeah, if you understand celestial navigation." " Is it hard?" I'm thinking maybe I should learn. A backup plan, for all those times I feel like I'm just wandering in circles." It's pretty jazzy math—you have to measure the altitude of a star, figure out its position using a nautical almanac, figure out what you think the altitude should be and what direction the star should be in based on where you think you are, and compare the altitude you measured with the one you calculated. Then you plot this on a chart, as a line of position. You get several lines of position to cross, and that's where you go." My father takes one look at my face and smiles. " Exactly," he laughs. " Never leave home without your GPS. "
18
" She took one look at Alessandro and Bree and placed a hand on her chest. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Francesca, lass. Is that you?” And then she fainted. “Holy shit!” Bree rushed to the fallen nun's side, ignoring Sister McReady’s scowl of disapproval at her language. “Mommy! You killed da penguin lady!” Will cried out in surprise. Bree lightly slapped the old woman’s face and felt a rush of relief when the Mother Superior stirred. The last thing she needed on her conscience was a dead nun. The old woman’s blue eyes opened and anger filled them when her gaze shifted to Alessandro. “You. You spawn of the devil. Why don’t ye take yerself back where ye came from and leave our poor Francesca alone?” “Oh, Mother Superior, yer confused is all. Come now. On yer feet, mum,” Sister McReady said helping the old woman up. “Uh, I’m sorry. Sister. Francesca was my great aunt. My name is Bree.” “Bree? Jaysus but it’s a ridiculous resemblance it is,” the old woman panted, holding her chest. “And you?” She asked turning to Alessandro. “Of course yer not Adriano Dardano, of course but I’ll be a drunken fairy if yer not the spitting image of that demon of temptation, sent to corrupt our poor Francesca. Such a good girl she was,” Sister Brannigan murmured, tears filling her eyes. “Such a good girl. "
― E. Jamie , The Betrayal (Blood Vows, #2)