Lucifer Morningstar Quotes

You say I have no power? Perhaps you speak truly... But — you say that dreams have no power here? Tell me, Lucifer Morningstar... Ask yourselves, all of you... What power would hell have if those imprisoned were not able to dream of heaven?

Lucifer: The million lords of hell stand arrayed about you. Tell us, why we should let you leave? Helmet or no, you have no power here - what power have dreams in Hell? Dream: Tell me, Lucifer Morningstar [...] what power would Hell have if those here imprisoned were not able to dream of Heaven?

People don't arrive broken. They start with passion and yearning till something comes along that disabuses them of these notions.

For within himself, be he clairvoyant and articulate, he will find latent the divisions of the mind of European man, and their opposing impulses.

What power have dreams in hell?" "What power would HELL have if those here imprisoned were NOT able to DREAM of HEAVEN?

Indifference is malice. It may not sting with the immediacy of hate, but the wound it leaves behind can linger deeper, even imperceptibly, if we aren't careful, of course.

Lucifer looked over her shoulder. “What?” Dahlia cleared her throat. “You stupid bitch, I hate you and love you. Do not wear anything Patience gave you, it’s all ugly. I am going to write on every single blank page. Ha-ha! Love, the Faithful slut.” Lucifer scowled. “That person was mean to you.” Dahlia grinned. “No way, Faith was funny. I was the bitch, she was the slut, and Patience was the crack whore.

Lucifer was sprawled out on a couch, a spot he had not moved from in decades.  The white leather beneath him was old and cracked.  The window to the left of him had once looked out over mountains, but now only revealed the ivy that crawled up the glass.  A violin and its bow lay on the white carpet next to the couch.    Lucifer rested his hand on the violin as if to snatch it up in seconds

I know you,” I say, and I’m starting to see things swirling a little around the edges of my vision. He smirks. “You’re Lucifer fuckin’ Morningstar, cast out of heaven and landed here in the greatest city on earth.

People don't arrive broken. They start with passion and yearning till something comes along that disabuses them of those notions.

Hell is my enemy, not you. Even the cruelest ones, who delight in their malice - they all started their journey in the same way. As victims.

Honestly, I don't give a flying shit what happens to this eternally fucked up world. It can all go down in a goddamn firestorm, for all the fuck I care about it. But I want Lucifer to burn. Plain and fucking simple. I figure you're the best bet to make that happen.

am Lucifer,” he started. “A few things. I’m not a suave, womanizing nightclub owner. I’m not evil. I’m not the Prince of Darkness. I have never met God, or an angel, or demons. I’ve never been to hell. I have no idea if heaven and hell are real. I am not the Prince of Lies. My last name isn’t Morningstar. I am not a dragon. I have not once accepted souls from someone at a crossroad in exchange for anything. Ever. I do not know anyone with the surname of Winchester. I am not the devil, or Crowley, or Satan, or any of the other dozen or so names that person possesses.” “Well, that summed up a lot of my questions,” Sky said. “And all sarcastic questions, too.

There are no special places in hell. Hell is a democracy.

There was a truth there. A wound just like she said. One that ran deep across the soul and stung the air as well. Esther knew it too. For it was the same ache she carried. The one they all carried. These Children of the Morningstar.

It was easy. All it took were whispers into the ears of man. And in the centuries that followed, your kind ran rivers of blood in the name of a God they never knew.