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You disappoint me,
all you people raking in on the world.
The devil's script sells
you the heart of a blackbird.
--
A Distorted Reality Is Now A Necessity To Be Free

 

Elliott Smith

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I'm sick of people who always try to blame movies, bands, songs, or talk shows for whatever – teen suicides, drug overdoses or everything else. If someone is stupid enough to kill himself because of a song, then that's exactly what they deserve – they weren't contributing anything to the society – it's one less idiot in the world. There's too many people – if more people kill themselves over music, it wouldn't disappoint me. What would disappoint me is that people are that stupid.

 

Marilyn Manson

 

I myself have two specimens of Ikkyu's calligraphy. One of them is a single line: "It is easy to enter the world of the Buddha, it is hard to enter the world of the devil." Much drawn to these words, I frequently make use of them when asked for a specimen of my own calligraphy. They can be read in any number of ways, as difficult as one chooses, but in that world of the devil added to the world of the Buddha, Ikkyu of Zen comes home to me with great immediacy. The fact that for an artist, seeking truth, good, and beauty, the fear and petition even as a prayer in those words about the world of the devil — the fact that it should be there apparent on the surface, hidden behind, perhaps speaks with the inevitability of fate. There can be no world of the Buddha without the world of the devil. And the world of the devil is the world difficult of entry. It is not for the weak of heart.

 

Yasunari Kawabata

 

The Devil is right at home. The Devil, the Devil himself, is right in the house.
And the Devil came here yesterday. Yesterday the Devil came here. Right here. [crosses himself] And it smells of sulphur still today.
Yesterday, ladies and gentlemen, from this rostrum, the president of the United States, the gentleman to whom I refer as the Devil, came here, talking as if he owned the world. Truly. As the owner of the world.

 

Hugo Chavez

 

Colonel Roosevelt liked the song of the blackbird so much that he was almost indignant that he had not heard more of its reputation before. He said everybody talked about the song of the thrush; it had a great reputation, but the song of the blackbird, though less often mentioned, was much better than that of the thrush. He wanted to know the reason of this injustice and kept asking the question of himself and me. At last he suggested that the name of the bird must have injured its reputation. I suppose the real reason is that the thrush sings for a longer period of the year than the blackbird and is a more obtrusive singer, and that so few people have sufficient feeling about bird songs to care to discriminate.

 

Edward Grey

 

Here by the baring bough
Raking up leaves,
Often I ponder how
Springtime deceives,—
I, an old woman now,
Raking up leaves.

 

Thomas Hardy