Comic: Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons. Keepers. Page 1

Living body or dead - a set of particles is the same. From the point of view of structure there is no significant difference. Life and death sequentually of abstraction. Why I should they be upset?

You're weird, Blake. And attitude to life and the war you are too strange.
Weird? Listen... Once you realize that this entire world is just a big joke, and it makes sense to only be the Onion.
- Burnt villages, the boys with necklaces of human ears... Is that a joke?
Hey... did I say it was a joke of good taste? And I'm trying to match.

Coffee should be black as hell and sweet as a stolen kiss.

Everything has form in time and not just in space. And in some marble blocks hiding future statues.

Steep there were times, Rorschach! Cool... where did they go?
Is you left.

Swallow, everything in the world is not so easy, and the rain pours equally for good or evil.

Funny, but the person can also go out of fashion. When I look at old photographs, or who is in them, a bit like as if they are relatives. Take a look at photos taken ten years later, and you will find that the faces have changed, and those that were there before, are gone and will never appear.

- I have cancer.
Cancer? What other cancer?
- Well, you know this here is a cancer that eventually cured?
Yes.
- Now, I'm just not like that.

Life is a complex and contradictory thing, and it rarely voluntarily gives the answers to their own riddles.

Some skeletons have to be linked to not jump out of the cabinets.

Why did we fight? Life is a fragile thing, a good mutation, virus, clinging mud, rushing in an endless nothingness.

- Edward Morgan Blake. he was born in 1924. 45 years was the comedian, is murdered in 1985, is buried in the rain.
What happened to us? Life is a struggle... no time for friends and only enemies leave roses.
Life is full of violence, the violence ends. Dollar-Bill, the Silhouette, Captain metropolis... We never die a natural death.
Does not work.
Perhaps it is in our blood? Some animal instincts compel us to fight, making us what we are?
It doesn't matter. We do what we must to do.
Others are hiding their heads between swollen teats of indulgence and the indulgence of their caprices, pigs, writhing in search of asylum... but there is no refuge... and the future like a train flying down the slope.
Blake understood. Meant it as a joke, but he understood. He saw the flaws in society, saw the little man in the mask, trying to change them... He saw the true face of the twentieth century and chose the path of blame, a parody of it. But no one saw anything funny. That's why he was alone.

Applying his knowledge in practice and tidying their own thoughts, you can achieve almost anything. Each "simple man". That's the concept from which I would like to give up forever: "simple man". Funny. Simple people don't exist.

- Rorschach, wait! Where are you going? All of this is too big to build from a steep. Need to find a compromise...
- No. No, even in the face of Armageddon. No compromises.