Book: Student monsterology 2: curse of the wendigo

Without hope, a man is no better than a draft horse pulling a heavy cart with its sorrows.

“One piece of advice, Will Henry. If a female person says she wants to show you something, run away. Most likely, this is something that you do not want to see.

... or controlling your appetite, or appetite control.

- What are you doing now? he asked.
- Nothing, sir.
- Excuse me, but you could do it almost anywhere?
- Yes, sir. I... I'll do it, sir.
What? What will you do?
- Nothing... I'm doing nothing in some other place.

Maybe men stronger sex, but women are made of much sterner stuff!

- You don't understand, Dr. Wardrop. These men are savages. Man is killing his people and brag about it! Killing them to save! Tell me, what kind of person does that?
- Well, sarge, the first thing that comes to mind is the God of the Bible. But I would not presume to argue about it.

- Well, you see? I knew you'd say that. You're so damn predictable that I wonder why I ever thought that I love you.
- Millions of people love the sun. The sun is predictable.

Know why he is held for him with all my heart and soul, Grave? For the same reason why the human race clings to irrational belief in the wendigo, vampires and all their supernatural kin. Very hard to believe that our world is a virtuous and controlled by a just and loving God, when ordinary mortals are capable of such unthinkable crimes. He nodded at the desecration of the corpse lying on the table gleaming stainless steel. - A monstrous action by definition requires the monster.

We often repress their arguments right instincts.

Even the most inveterate cynic greedy for his own lies.

Love can make us stupid, will Henry. It blinds us, not allowing to see the obvious things.

They say God looks upon us from above, as a scavenger that soars over the damn grey area. In the distance there is a God. The stench of humanity does not rise so high. Our betrayal, our envy, our fears - all of them rise no higher than our top.

We must be honest with each other. But even more important to be honest with yourself. I was honest with myself, and I was very expensive. Important only the truth. I have devoted my life to finding her, wherever she was hiding. This is the heart of science, will Henry, is the real monster we are chasing. I dropped everything, just to know it, and there's nothing that I wouldn't go to, just to find her.

In the cities we are disconnected from death, pushed her into the dusty corner but in the desert it is always there. This mistress, who creates life. Sensual embrace of the predator and the victim, orgasmic death cry, the last spasmodic burst of blood, even the silent fertilization of the earth by a falling tree and decaying leaves - all this affection of the beloved, the indispensable condition of life.