Roschach's Journal: October 12th, 1985
Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face.
The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown.
The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout "Save us!"... and I'll look down and whisper "No.
Mots clés graphic-novels alan-moore the-watchmen
Who makes the world? Perhaps the world is not made. Perhaps nothing is made. Perhaps it simply is, has been, will always be there…a clock without a craftsman.
Alan MooreMots clés alan-moore watchmen
They claim their labours are to build a heaven yet their heaven is populated with horrors. Perhaps the world is not made. Perhaps nothing is made. A clock without a craftsman. It's too late. Always has been, always will be…too late.
Alan MooreMots clés alan-moore watchmen
Please! Don't all leave. Somebody has to do it, don't you see? Somebody has to save the world...
Alan MooreMots clés superhero alan-moore watchmen captain-metropolis save-the-world
I'm 65 years old. Everyday the future looks a little bit darker. But the past, even the grimy parts of it, well, it just keeps on getting brighter all the time.
Alan MooreMots clés past future memories alan-moore watchmen silk-spectre
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