They wear the colours of reason as a cloak, which hides a uniform they will not remove.
What Do You Live For "I think what I mainly live for is contemplating the misfortunes of other people. That and vindication. Being proved repeatedly over and over again right when other people are wrong. That does a lot for me. The second thing I live for is, if not exactly passing on my genes, taking part in activities that might allow those genes to be passed on." - Christopher Hitchens
Fuck You "that's not facetious, your audience which will clap apparently anything is frivolous. *responding to boos from audience* Ha fuck you, fuck you." - Christopher Hitchens
Counterfactual Relating to or expressing what has not happened or is not the case.
Dulce et Decorum Est A #poem by Wilfred Owen written from memory: Bent double, like beggars under sacks, knocked-kneed coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge. Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, and towards our endless rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep, many had lost there boots, but marched on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind, drunk with fatigue, deaf, even to the hoots of tired outstripped five-nines which dropped behind. Gas! Gas! Quick boys, an ecstasy of fumbling, fitting the clumsy helmets just in time. But someone yet was yelling out and stumbling, like a man on fire or in lime. Dim, through the misty pains and thick green light, as under a green sea: I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, he plunges at me, guttering, chocking, drowning. If in some dream, you too could pace behind the wagon that we flung him in. And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, in his hanging face, like a devils sick of sin. And hear with every jolt the blood come gurgling from his froth-corrupted lungs. As obscene as cancer, as bitter as the cud, of vile incurable sores on innocent tongues, My friend you would not say, with such high zest, To children ardent for some desperate glory. That old lie: Dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori.
