Quotes About Control

The great chain of fear.

I felt myself tremble, but I would not let him see it. Great gods smell fear like sharks smell blood, and they will devour you for it jus the same.

Her calmness enraged me.

They take what they want, and in return they give you only your own shackles.

She thought that she had power to drive a wedge between us, but she had nothing.

you may have what girls you like in the field, but you will bring none home, for only I will hold sway in your halls.

They gave her to a mortal, trying to shackle the child's power. Dilute him with humanity, diminish him.

You do not command me. The silence went on and on, painful and breathless, like a singer overreaching to finish a phrase. Then,

Whatever you do, I wanted to say, do not be too happy. It will bring down fire on your head. I said nothing, and let her dance.

Then I learned that I could bend the world to my will, as a bow is bent for an arrow.

Gods pretend to be parents, but they are children, clapping their hands and shouting for more.

they won't fear you as they fear the rest of us.

But these are the last remaining years of choice. In the stainless nurseries of the future, the feds will work their way through all the squalling pinkness tattooing a combination tax number and credit number on one wrist, followed closely by the I.T. and T. team putting the permanent phone number, visaphone doubtless, on the other wrist. Die and your number goes back in the bank. It will be the first provable immortality the world has ever known.

I have no stomach for surprises. I have endured too many of them. They upset me. The elimination of all removable risk is the most plausible way of staying alive.

He that leaveth nothing to chance will do few things ill, but he will do very few things. —GEORGE SAVILE, MARQUIS OF HALIFAX

Win-Tech tried a lot harder to keep you than they did to keep me. I'm a backstop-type guy, hot on administration and controls. But people who can design circuits and take the bugs out of them are rare birds.

the mafia kills in the way a state does; it does not murder, it executes.

while I may not be able to trace the Artist's hand at all times, I can always trust his motives. The God who is in control of all things, who acts behind the scenes in all things, is also the God who willingly suffers. He is the one I can shout at, cry with and find comfort in.

The old Romans knew better; to keep people quiet they filled their bellies.

The decision maker in the brain has decided that the overt expression of unbridled rage would ruin the person's life, and to prevent that from happening, it automatically initiates physical symptoms in the body without consulting the conscious, rational mind.

There is a wonderful metaphor of the unconscious in Peter Gay's excellent biography of Freud, Freud: A Life for Our Time (New York: Norton, 1988), p. 128: "Rather, the unconscious proper resembles a maximum-security prison holding anti-social inmates languishing for years or recently arrived, inmates harshly treated and heavily guarded, but barely kept under control and forever attempting to escape" (italics added).

We are not inviting—we are guarded. Most of our energy is spent trying to hide our true selves, and control our worlds to have some sense of security.

Corporate policies and procedures are designed with one aim: to harness a man to the plow and make him produce.

Our smaller stories are constructed along the plot lines of control and gratification. Once we begin to live by this false self, Satan and his minions sabotage the story to make sure we are exposed. Then he mocks us for our foolishness and hypocrisy for hiding behind such a facade in the first place. Other times, he simply leaves us to die in costume.