Hemlock Grove Quotes

God doesn't want you to be happy, He wants you to be strong.

I have an ugliness it's impossible to love.

Pain was as much a part of this life as the summer and the winter and the rain, and there was no greater asshole than the one who believed you can cure it.

If a problem can't be solved within the frame it was conceived, the solution lies in reframing the problem.

Fear is a communicable disease; it comes out in the sweat and passes from host to host. Fear is an incendiary agent; it combusts with stupidity.

Wisdom is where the brain meets the heart.

There is no upward limit to the number of times you can make the same mistake.

Our love must not be a thing of words and fine talk. It must be a thing of action and sincerity.

And remember: the flesh is as sacred as it is profane.

Senses will lie as dreams wake. You are not on solid ground. Don't look down.

The thing about coming back from the dead was that your life went on.

But she would make it, because maybe he wasn't much of a warrior but if there was one thing that he was cut out for it was an epic and retarded act of love.

Hey hey hey,” said Roman, “we don’t love with our teeth.

And it made me hurt inside of my bones with sadness. Because in a life that is long and well lived there are sorrows and darkest doldrums that cannot be understood by those who live day to day like it could be any other.

A question is a door and an unopened door is just part of the wall and as long as it's standing it's doing its job.

It's weird that impossible is even a word.

Tiring because he felt prematurely the weight of carrying how stupidly fucking sad this was for the rest of his days.

The first step to liberty is respecting the rights of others.

Of course, minute as its impact may be in our physical universe, the fact of quantum entanglement is this: If one logically inexplicable thing is known to exist, then this permits the existence of all logically inexplicable things. A thing may be of deeper impossibility than another, in the sense that you can be more deeply underwater--but whether you are five feet or five fathoms from the surface you are still all wet.

No good ever came out of possessing a firearm in a Patsy Cline singing mood.

But there are frogs deadlier than sharks

That if a thing is defined in contrast that's what life is, the shadow of death. So the mystery of death couldn't be the bad thing, because without it there wouldn't be life. The badness was life, just happening, as essential a part of the good as the good. And what was there to do but to take it as it comes and to hope, to hope constantly and carnally and with no time to lose.

He had not actually known what to expect in coming here tonight, much less that it would reveal to him two essential truths of life: that men do become wolves and that if you have the privilege to be witness to such a transformation it is the most natural and right thing you have ever seen.

We can't know if we laugh at ourselves for being silly or to forget that we're not and that we are still here only by a sufferance that can be no more predicted than appeased. Like most things, probably a little of both.

Write it on the bottom of your shoes for the devil to read.

All in all, Peter’s love of being Peter was so great that like an overfilled bucket of paint it slopped over even in the smallest moments of his day.

Fear is a communicable disease; it comes out in the sweat and passes from host to host. Fear is an incendiary agent; it combusts with stupidity.

Well what?” said Peter. He knew but had learned that if there was one advantage to the male sex it was that your obtuseness would never be underestimated; if you pretend you don’t know what the problem is, half the time it just goes away.

A rich man, was one who spent a million.

Peter was quiet. He put his fingertip to the floorboard and traced the words "thank you" in the old tongue and then blew the words away.

...if you stood at the other end of the universe seeking resolution you would just end up feeling like an idiot for trying.

If Roman Godfrey was a riddle, Shelley was the epic fornication of mystery and enigma

There was so much to learn from every place. Or at least something worth watching. Who was in love with their best friend's boy- or girl-friend, who was in love with their best friend, who cut, who starved, who locked themselves in the handicapped bathroom to jerk off or cry, who was addicted to what or raped by whom--it was everywhere, a wonderful world of darkness and desire right under the roaring bleachers, if you had your eye out.

These fires go out but the coals don't. If this isn't ended it will be just around the corner everyday of his life. And if you don't let a boy become a man, it's no one's fault but your own when you're still wiping his ass when he should be making you grandchildren.

Knowing before ever seeing it that her ass was like a stationary drop of water on a flower stem

I am ugly, Uncle. There is no other way to put it. But that does not mean I am without pride, without joy, without the same entitlement to feel deserving of love from those not obligated by blood to give it. I may be ugly, but I can hardly imagine a reason to act like it.

Destiny is no more than the fulfillment of purposive potentialities within us. The human cerebral cortex is a single sheet composed of more neurons than there are stars in the known universe folded like a paper crane to fit in a quart-sized cubbyhole; there is enough potential energy in a single person that if released would equal thirty hydrogen bombs. Destiny is nothing to sneeze at!

Domesticity. Times when one wonders if Medea is a tragedy or a goddamn wish fulfillment.

Like a night when the energy is bloody unsalvageable but the show must et cetera. Domesticity. Times when one wonders if Medea is a tragedy or goddamn wish fulfillment.

Peter’s privatemost circuitry a sudden and confusing crossfiring at how arousing and simultaneously dick-shriveling this apparition was.

Essential truths gained by loss in translation. The essence of beauty not perfection, but the doomed aspiration.

Are we passing notes, Mr. Godfrey?" Said Mrs. Pisarro. "Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am," he said.

Then his eyes overfilled with sudden awful knowing. The obvious she could not prepare him for: that a Gypsy was a Gypsy was a Gypsy. They will steal the rings off your fingers or the love right out of your heart and leave no more to show for it than a trail of smoke in the night.

Disintegration: literally, the loss of integrity. But if the mind can be described as one’s subjective experience of the brain, then what is the self but vagrant fluorescings of neural constellations, individual states of consciousness determined by mercurial configurations of amplitude and alliance?

Me: Proposal? * * * Me: Let’s watch Hemlock Grove together. Via text. * * * Me: Also, I think it’s weird you’re always texting me, BUT, I AM texting back, so I guess that makes me weird too. You’re kind of…fun. * * * Zach: Only kind of? * * * Me: *rolls eyes* Way to ruin the moment. * * * Zach: *I* ruined the moment? You’re the one who lied. * * * Me: Point out my lie. * * * Zach: KIND OF. Like we both don’t know how remarkable I am. * * * Me: You’re very full of yourself. * * * Zach: Or confident. Take your pick. * * * Me: Why am I still talking to you? * * * Zach: Because we’re going to binge Hemlock Grove together? * * * Me: Give me thirty and we’re on. * * * Me: WAIT. What are you ordering to eat? Let’s be real losers and eat the same thing. * * * Zach: *groans* Do we HAVE to? * * * Zach: I’m ordering Chinese. * * * Me: Nah. Let’s get wings. * * * Zach: Fine. Wings it is. * * * Me: *whispers* What kind are you getting? * * * Zach: WE ARE NOT GETTING THE SAME FLAVOR. We aren’t THAT pathetic. * * * Me: Fine, but just so you know, I’m pouting.

Roman ignored her and took her ankles and flipped them purposefully, but because of her hands she could not turn all the way and ended up with her legs scissored unintuitively, and suddenly things were different. Ashley had heard girls tell stories of getting into situations and changing their minds as though this made them victims of what happened next, like that was how it worked, that you got so far and it switched off just like that and they were not themselves to blame for being little sluts and cock teases in the first place. But now she understood: it was not like that. Changing your mind was not the thing that happened at all, what changed was your body telling you what was right and what was wrong and before now she had never known the way things can just like that go all wrong.

His home was a part of him, an externalized expression of his will, for upon his inherited Dutch Manor house he had superimposed the Gothic magnificence which he desired. He had been attracted by the formulations of Andrew Downing, the young landscape architect who lived on the river at Newburgh and whose directions for building "romantic and picturesque villas" were changing the countryside; but it was not in Nicholas to accept another's ideas, and when five years ago he had remodeled the old Van Ryn homestead, he had used Downing simply as a guide. To the original ten rooms he had added twenty more, the gables and turrets, and the one high tower. The result, though reminiscent of a German Schloss on the Rhine, crossed with Tudor English and interwoven with pure fantasy, was nevertheless Hudson River American and not unsuited to its setting. The Dragonwyck gardens were as much as an expression of Nicholas' personality as was the mansion, for here, he had subdued Nature to a stylized ornateness. Between the untouched grove of hemlocks to the south and the slope of a rocky hill half a mile to the north he had created along the river an artificial and exotic beauty. To Miranda it was overpowering, and she felt dazed as they mounted marble steps from the landing. She was but vaguely conscious of the rose gardens and their pervasive scent, of small Greek temples set beneath weeping willows, of rock pavilions, violet-bordered fountains, and waterfalls.

Dr. Johann Pryce,” he said, and there was a certain spurious slickness to his carriage and his smile that brought to mind the rainbow patina of oil on a puddle.

It made his beard a liar.

She had not been conferred with a practical sense of how one went about this strange and all inverted business of being a girl, where seemingly natural stuff like going on about all the great things you just learned about Siberian tigers on National Geographic was suddenly weird, but totally weird stuff in and of itself like drawing around your eyeball with a pencil became normal, and it impressed to no end that it was a product of meticulous effort that made the twins seem so perfectly and effortlessly feminine.

To the eye a shot is only geometry and yardage and wind, but to a still-beating heart pulling a trigger on another living body and watching it fall is to be avoided, it does not give you a good feeling. If you aren’t a psychopath or a male.

Godfrey watched helplessly as she crossed the boundary of the property, the lamppost's light extinguishing suddenly as she passed, and continued headlong down the hill; he heard the percussions of her footfalls after she passed from sight, and as those faded the rise of her cry into something horrific and wrathful, a thorn in the paw of the heavens.

Every time she used his name it was putting a pat of butter on a slice of botulism.

What changes are wrought not by Time, yet in Time! For not Mankind only, but all that Mankind does or beholds, is in continual growth, re-genesis and self-perfecting vitality. Cast forth thy Act, thy Word, into the ever-living, ever-working Universe: it is a seed-grain that cannot die; unnoticed to-day (says one) it will be found flourishing as a Banyan-grove (perhaps, alas, as a Hemlock-forest!) after a thousand years.

You know how when you close your ears sometimes the sound of your heart is like a little man walking through snow?

Who," he said. "I don't want to talk about it unless you start the car." He rolled down the window and took the keys from the ignition and dropped them onto the ground outside. "Who," he said. "See? I knew you were going to make a federal case over it." "Who," he said. She folded her arms. "Well, you sound like the world's dumbest owl," she said.

I believe," said Olivia, "that's enough cholesterol to see you comfortably into your dotage.