We have all lived in the hive. The walls bending from a thousand, scavenged paintings, every one in dissonance with the others. Rooms cluttered with chairs and cheap, expensive rugs. On one of the mattresses my blood, under the sheets. Hotbodied nights. A landscape of my blood painting mistake after mistake until the word is meaningless. Until the act is.
“We were talking about war in my most recent panel, how easy it is and how dramatic it is. The same thing can be said about evil. A lot of people have the notion that evil is interesting and basically fun, and that good is dull and no fun, and I don’t think that’s true. If anything, the reverse is true, and I wanted to have a shot at proving that I was right.”
Gene Wolfe