Mephisto Quotes

I know there’s evil in the world, and there always has been. But you don’t need to believe in Satan or demons to explain it. Human beings are perfectly capable of evil all by themselves.

She wanted to tell him she'd never pick any of those other three billion guys, because he was all she wanted. He was her freak, and she'd love him forever.

Lucifer will be furious with you for failing, but it's not like he can do anything about it. Women don't always do what you want, even if you're Lord of the Underworld.

You're a light in the darkness, something to give people hope.

Sometimes, the person who could make you happiest is the one who waits patiently in the wings.

Maybe he wasn't the boy next door, maybe he wasn't even a real boy, but holy smokes, did he know how to kiss.

They stood together, arms wrapped tight, listening to the wind through the pines while snow fell softly all around. This was one of those moments in life she knew she’d never forget. He moved his head so that his lips were close to her ear. “Run, Sasha. If you can do it, run like hell and don’t look back.” Her breath came in short little gasps. “I don’t want to run.

His hand around hers was strong and warm, and in spite of her confusion and hesitation, she never wanted to let go.

He'd waited a thousand years for her, and she would know him for less than two weeks.

Come on, you guys, let's have some sugar and get along, yeah?

Jax gave him a look, and he nodded, silently agreeing he wouldn't do anything stupid. Like kiss her. Or go to her house to watch Star Trek outtakes.

So I have 8 to 10 screenplays written and unproduced. And frankly, some of them are my favorite stories. I have a Western version of The Count Of Monte Cristo where the count has a clockwork hand. I have a screenplay called Mephisto's Bridge about a Faustian deal with the devil. I love them all.

She tried not to slip her arms beneath his trench coat, or spread her palms across his broad, muscular back, or inhale the delicious scent of him, or rest her cheek against his hard, warm chest. She tried. And failed.

You can study a face all you want, but you never really know what lies beneath the mask.

It made him crazy, looking down into her beautiful eyes, at her creamy soft skin, knowing he couldn't touch her.

He is quiet and small, he is black From his ears to the tip of his tail; He can creep through the tiniest crack He can walk on the narrowest rail. He can pick any card from a pack, He is equally cunning with dice; He is always deceiving you into believing That he's only hunting for mice. He can play any trick with a cork Or a spoon and a bit of fish-paste; If you look for a knife or a fork And you think it is merely misplaced - You have seen it one moment, and then it is gawn! But you'll find it next week lying out on the lawn. And we all say: OH! Well I never! Was there ever A Cat so clever As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!

Oh, that. You’re not confused. You’re falling in love. And it sucks almost as much as it’s amazing.

She never strayed far from him though, and if she looked around and didn't see him right away, he saw a look of panic in her blue eyes.

MEPHISTO. Good fortune’s closely linked to merit,   A thought that never enters foolish minds;   The Philosopher’s Stone’s there in their hands?   The Philosopher’s searching everywhere for it.

After that, he couldn't be sure how it happened, but she wasn't crying anymore and he wasn't thinking. At all. His hands were underneath her sweater, touching every inch of her warm, smooth skin; they were kissing like two condemned people suddenly given a reprieve; and his feeling of calm morphed into happiness so intense, he'd swear his blood was singing.

This sounds about as romantic as cold oatmeal.

He pressed her closer to his body for an instant, then slowly set her on her feet and stepped back, allowing her to get a look at him.

In her red dress and black boots, she stood straight and tall, blue eyes flashing with righteous fury, breasts rising and falling rapidly. Se had never looked more beautiful.

Was he serious? Why would she be meant for a guy from Hell? If there was such a thing as destiny, she was supposed to find a quiet, smart guy, one who wasn't over six feet tall, with midnight hair and a face she couldn't stop staring at. He'd be Russian Orthodox. Or Episcopalian. He might even be Jewish. But he wouldn't be from Hell.

Phoenix sank to the desk chair and stared at her computer screen. “I don’t know. I’ve lived like this for so long, it’s who I am. Everything seems so stupid. Like, look at this girl,writing to Sasha. She’s all”—he spoke in a falsetto voice—“‘OMG!’ and ‘LOL!’ and ‘WTF?’ and ‘Girl, you should totes go out with Tyler in Telluride!’” He looked up at her.“You’re seventeen years old, and this is how seventeenyear-olds talk to each other. I’m a thousand years old, and this stuff is like alien-speak to me. If I found another Anabo,she’d be writing OMG and I’d be thinking, You’re f’ing kidding me.

How to Win Friends and Influence People' Now that's just fascinating, but maybe you should read the Sons of Hell edition, 'How Not to Scare the Shit out of People and Alienate Everyone You Meet

No question. I admit, you’re not what I expected, but you’re exactly what I want.” “What did you expect?” “A sweet, reserved girl who wouldn’t provoke my brother into stabbing her a hundred times.” “A wilting violet? Oh, come on, Key. You’d run all over her and forget about her in a week.” “I see that now.” He grinned at her. “I keep trying to run all over you, but you’re just so . . . stabby.

MEPHISTO. I am the spirit that says no, no,   Always! And how right I am! For surely   It’s right that everything that comes to be   Should cease to be. And so they do. Still better   Would be nothing ever was. Hence sin   And havoc and ruin—all you call evil, in sum—   For me’s the element in which I swim.

As if he hadn’t just told her she was his only hope of Heaven in the same tone he’d tell her they needed a gallon of milk, he pulled out the chair and waved her toward it. “Have a seat and let’s eat, Jordan. Lots to do today.

It's the worst of your sins, hating basketball when you're so damn good at it.

MEPHISTO. Are you so narrow, hide-bound, that you fear 6460 A new thing? Only want to hear   Things heard before? Really, there’s no need,   Whatever comes, for you to feel dismayed,   Who are so used now to what’s strange and queer.   FAUST. That’s not for me: a soul that’s frozen, shut;   Awe and wonderment are man’s best part.   They cost one, in the world, those sentiments,   Yet seized by them, man feels what’s great, immense.

MEPHISTO Lusts cannot fill him nor happiness content, He whores after changing shapes and cannot rest, And the last miserable empty moment 11590 The poor wretch seeks to hold it fast. He held out hard against me but Time commands: Now the old man lies here in Time’s sands. The clock stands still –

So lebte Barbara, und vielleicht gab der Umstand, das sie auf Nicoletta wartete,daß sie zu jeder Stunde des Tages auf Nicolettas überraschende Ankunft vorbereitet war, ihren Leben den geheimen Sinn, das rätselhafte Zentrum, das es bedurfte.

MEPHISTO. Honor to you, you reverend peak,   With your great forests of stout oak,   Whose umbrage Luna’s brightest light   Strives in vain to penetrate!   —But in those bushes there I see A spark glowing modestly.   How luckily things work out, yes,   It’s him, it’s him, Homunculus! 8080 And where have you been, minikin?

Impulsively, she shoved him, but he didn’t budge, and the knife in her hand sliced into his shirt. And his skin. Horrified, she was about to apologize when he spun her around and held her with one arm pressed against her throat and a switchblade aimed at her stomach. “I win this point, Jordan. If I was a lost soul, you’d now have a blade in your belly. Do you know why?” “Because you’re a mean son of a bitch?

You mortal men know nothing of, whose name   We loathe to utter. You will need   To dig down deep, so deep, to come on them.   Who got us into this fix? You’re to blame.   FAUST. The way, the way!   MEPHISTO.                     No way! Tread, you must tread 6410 The way not trodden, never treadable!   The way not found by asking, it’s unaskable!   Ready and willing, are you, Dr. Faustus?   No locks to open, bolts to slide, from emptiness   To emptiness you’ll fall, cold, shuddering.   Can you conceive such desolation, loneliness?

I get it. And I guess you'd know, Mr. Gets It in the Dark with Strangers

Friendships are broken all the time. So are hearts.

Mephisto zeigte alle seine Schneidezähne in alphabetisch unwiderstehlicher Reihenfolge.

The worst will happen. Think of me, children, when that day comes. I have foreseen it and predicted it. Our age is corrupt. It stinks. Think of me - I smelled it out. I am not deceived. I sense the coming catastrophe. It will be like nothing that has ever happened. Everything will be swallowed up, which will be no loss-except in my case. Everything that exists will fall apart. It is rotten. I have sensed it, tasted it and cast it away from me. When it comes, it will bury us all. I pity you children, for you will not be able to live your lives. Whereas I have had a beautiful life

After Thursday, Lucifer will change you back to how you were before and I’ll be gone, so you’ll forget about me.” Her eyes welled with tears again. “Oh, God, please don’t cry. What did I say? Why aren’t you glad about that? It’s what you want. You said so over and over. “Jax, you’re such a…such a…guy.

Wieso nur fühlte sich Mephisto umzingelt? Und warum spürte er an seinen Schläfen dieses drückende Gefühl, das seinen ansonsten scharfen Geist so stumpf machte wie ein Sandsack einen talentierten Schrotschuss?

Such a creature—my, I’d love to know him!—   I’d call him Mr. Microcosm.   FAUST. What am I, then, if it can never be:   The realization of all human possibility,   That crown my soul so avidly reaches for?   MEPHISTO. In the end you are—just what you are.   Wear wigs high-piled with curls, oh millions,   Stick your legs in yard-high hessians,   You’re still you, the one you always were.   FAUST. I feel it now, how pointless my long grind 1840 To make mine all the treasures of man’s mind;   When I sit back and interrogate my soul,   No new powers answer to my call;   I’m not a hair’s breadth more in height,   A step nearer to the infinite.

Before they were done, he'd bought her tons of new clothes, underwear, perfume-because a saleslady had accosted them and he decided she definitely needed to smell like what was on that little white card-a new sketchbook, a watercolor of the Golden Gate Bridge he bought from a woman on the street, and a top-of-the-line MacBook with a pink carry case.

O Satan! Mephisto! Judas! O Benaiah! O evil eyes that glint beneath the lights! O clink of silver! O darkness, O death, O hell! Sheathed knives and chained wallets: lustful, grabbing, cheating, killing, hating, laughing in the lights . . .

In my dear pine-clad mountains of the Harz   There’s a pitchlike smell, a smell I favor   Most of all, excepting that of sulphur.   But here among these Greeks there’s not a trace   Of anything like that. I’m curious   To find out what they use below in their Hell   To stoke the fires with, their kind of fuel.   DRYAD. I guess you’re smart enough in your own country,   Abroad you’re something less than apt; 8220 Stop thinking home thoughts, try, Sir, to adapt   And show due honor to our sacred oak tree.   MEPHISTO. What you have lost, that’s what you think about,

Bei dem Wort “Gott” explodierte einer der Kobolde.

Überaus gründlich wurde er befingert und bezwickt und bezwackt, wobei das Bezwicken noch unangenehmer war als das Bezwacken.

Nur Vollidioten unternahmen seiner Meinung nach eine Reise, ohne Marmelade mitzunehmen.

Sie runzelte die Stirn und sagte etwas Grobes auf Alt-Griechisch.

İtibar kırılgan bir şeydir; bir ince çatlak onu paramparça eder.

Kalp meselelerinde, ıstırap refakat bulmaya can atar.

When in a superior bargaining position, one should never make the first move.

I hate it when a woman lets me down. Gives us all a bad name.

Then she turned to follow them, and the three demon hunters walked together down the hill.

Here were the real wages of sin. Not hellfire and damnation, but heartbreak.

Heidruns Geschenke waren dafür berühmt, Seufzer hervorzurufen, aber keine Seufzer der glücklichen Hingabe sondern eher der resignierten Hinnahme bei gewünschter, aber nicht erfolgender Zurückgabe.

„Der Propagandaminister -- Herr über das geistige Leben eines Millionenvolkes -- humpelte behende durch die glänzende Menge, die sich vor ihm verneigte. Eine eisige Luft schien zu wehen, wo er vorbeiging. Es war, als sei eine böse, gefährliche, einsame und grausame Gottheit herniedergestiegen in den ordinären Trubel genusssüchtiger, feiger und erbärmlicher Sterblicher. Einige Sekunden lang war die ganze Gesellschaft wie gelähmt vor Entsetzen. Die Tanzenden erstarrten mitten in ihrer anmutigen Pose, und ihr scheuer Blick hing, zugleich demütig und hassvoll, an dem gefürchteten Zwerg. Der versuchte durch ein charmantes Lächeln, welches seinen mageren, scharfen Mund bis zu den Ohren hinaufzerrte, die schauerliche Wirkung, die von ihm ausging, ein wenig zu mildern; er gab sich Mühe, zu bezaubern, zu versöhnen und seine tief liegenden, schlauen Augen freundlich blicken zu lassen. Seinen Klumpfuß graziös hinter sich her ziehend, eilte er gewandt durch den Festsaal und zeigte dieser Gesellschaft von zweitausend Sklaven, Mitläufern, Betrügern, Betrogenen und Narren sein falsches, bedeutendes Raubvogelprofil.

In the classical imagination, Evil was still a mythical power. There was still a Mephisto or a Frankenstein to embody the principle of Evil. Our evil is faceless and without imagination. We no longer need the Devil to steal our shadows. There are no powers doing battle above our heads, fighting over our souls. No longer any need for the lubricious agency of capital to extort our labour-power from us. We no longer have any shadows, any souls, and we are stakeholders in our own lives.

Ich weiß nicht, ob ihr schon mal auf eigene Kosten heimlich ein Hotelzimmer renoviert habt, wenn es nicht euer eigenes Hotel war: Man muss bei so was mit Ärger rechnen, so sieht es nun mal aus, und am Ende wird man womöglich noch als Hexe verbrannt.

M. Larue almost fell upon the neck of Höfgen, so delighted was he to see him again. "Oh, oh, mon très cher ami! Enchanté - charmed to see you again." There was a shaking of hands and cordial laughter. Wasn't it a pleasure for M. Larue to live in the new Germany? Wasn't his new love in his well-fitting SS uniform much prettier than any of those dirty Communist youths in days gone by? Bonsoir, mon cher, I am utterly delighted - long live the Führer. That very evening, Larue insisted, he would send a report to Paris saying how happy and peace-loving everyone was in Berlin. No one has any wicked, aggressive thoughts.

Dazu kam noch, dass die Mutter von dem ganzen akademischen Getue überhaupt nichts mehr hielt, seit Faust sie zu seiner Antrittsvorlesung mitgenommen hatte, wo die ganze Fakultät versammelt gewesen war, alle in Talar, Dotterbart und Doktorhut, die ganzen schrägen alten Vögel mit und ohne Bart, die ganze Bande von verqueren Weltfremden, Wissenstrotteln, Bücheranfressern, vergeistigten Nasenquetschern und Bildungsfettsäcken.

There's a whole history that never appears in the Bible, Detective. A secret history you can only find in Canaanite or Hebrew legends. They talk about the marriage between Adam and a free-spirited woman, a cunning temptress who refused to obey her husband, or to lie beneath him as a docile wife should. Instead she demanded wild sex in every position and taunted him when he couldn't satisfy her. She was the world's first truly liberated female, and she wasn't afraid to seek the pleasures of the flesh.

Barbara estava acostumada a ser procurada por seus amigos quando estavam necessitados e desesperados. Não apenas Nicoletta tinha compartilhado com ela suas confissões complicadas; também homens jovens e mesmo amigos mais velhos de seu pai vinham vê-la quando precisavam de alguém que os consolasse. Ela era experiente nas dores dos outros; desde o começo da sua juventude, ela se proibira de compartilhar ou levar a sério as próprias dores, a própria falta de rumo. Por essa razão, parecia que não havia nada que perturbasse seu equilíbrio interior. Os amigos consideravam Barbara uma pessoa das mais equilibradas, com enérgica inteligência, competências múltiplas, amadurecida, suave e segura.

Her attention was fixed so completely on Jane that she did not see her own death hurtling toward her head. The poker slammed into Edwina’s skull, and Lily felt the crack of crushing bone, transmitted straight to her hand through wrought iron. Edwina dropped to the floor without uttering a sound. Lily lost her grip, and the falling poker clanged as it hit wood. She stared down at what she had just done. At Edwina’s head, the skull caved in. At the blood, flowing like a black river. And suddenly the room darkened, and her legs wobbled out from beneath her. She slid to the floor, landing on her rump. She dropped her head in her lap and could feel nothing: no pain, no sensation at all in her limbs. She was floating disembodied on the edge of blackness.

He looked like an excited sixteen-year-old with his tousled hair and shining eyes. Barbara could not deny she liked him, even though every word he said was repellent to her. With an eloquence that frequently tied itself in knots but was of an unflagging vehemence he explained to her that the faith for which he was fighting was basically revolutionary. 'When the day arrives and our Führer takes over supreme power, then that's the end of capitalism and the economy of the big bosses. The servitude of usury will be abolished. Big banks and stock exchanges that bleed our national economy white can close their doors, and no one will mourn them". Barbara wanted to know why Miklas did not join the Communists if he, like them, was against capitalism. Miklas explained as eagerly as a child reciting a lesson learned by heart. "because the Communists have no patriotism for the fatherland, but are supranational and dependent on Russian Jews. AndCommunists don't know anything about idealism-all Marxists believe that the only purpose in life is money. We want our own revolution-our German, idealistic revolution. Not one that will be directed by Freemasons and the Elders of Zion.

En tatmin edici ödül beklemeye mecbur kaldığındır.

This is the function of Mephisto. The demon is the contrary, the adversary, to whatever is posited—the antithesis to Faust’s thesis.

The whirl of images refused to remain still. The flames. Edwina. The spreading pool of Dominic’s blood, glistening in the firelight.

Ah, that’s what makes it fun,” Mephisto seems to be warming up to the idea, eyes slit in rapidly growing mischief. “You have to trick it. Very good exercise. Would make a great exwire test if not for the fact that they keep eating the participants.

If I live...I will live unafraid...I will live so all can see, I am not ashamed of who I am or what I'm designed to be!" -The Great Mephisto

her beam revealing ancient brick walls and the faint glimmer

It is perhaps a more fortunate destiny to have a taste for collecting shells than to be born a millionaire’?

Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber Symphony Number 5 by Gustav Mahler “O mio babbino caro” from Giannia Schicchi by Puccini The Spruce, Op. 75 by Jean Sibelius Appalachian Spring by Aaron Copeland New World Symphony by Antonin Dvorak Piano Concerto in A Minor by Edvard Grieg Mephisto Waltz by Franz Liszt Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major by Johann Sebastian Bach Cello Sonata in G Minor, Op. 65 by Frederic Chopin

I’m beginning to suspect he’s the demon spawn of Mephisto, evil ruler of hell in the Marvel universe.

My job was to take care of that man, and I've got nothing to show for it. I might as well do the same work and get paid.

If one believes in the light, one has to believe in the darkness as well.

I came for midnight Mass, didn't I?" He gave a weary laugh, "Everyone shows up at Christmas. Even the ones who don't believe.

Sed libera nos a malo. Latin. She frowned at him. Deliver us from evil.

Every culture has its own ideas of what the Devil looks like. There's only one thing that almost all cultures, dating back to the most primitive tribes, agree on: the Devil actually exists.

You starve Dad a few days, he'll know how to cook, too. No, he wouldn't. He'd just waste away at the dining table, waiting for dinner to float in all by itself.

Hell, there are times when I'd like to run away from my family.

Angela Rizzoli's worst fear was that someone, someday, would leave her house hungry.

You're asking me to explain evil. Yes. I can't. Neither can science. It just is.

We share a belief that evil isn't just a concept. It's real, and it has a physical presence. It has a face." He paused. "At some time in our lives, we've each seen it in the flesh.

We don't inherit our parents' sins. Or their virtues.

Hell calls to Hell sounds ominous enough. Abyssus abyssum invocat is a saying that dates back at least a thousand years. It means "One evil deed leads to another.

Actually, Nero didn’t fiddle. The violin wasn’t invented yet. While Rome burned, he was said to have played the lyre and sung.

We’re not trying to mess

There’s a lot to be said for those who can create something from a simple idea. Something like a ground-breaking game with all kinds of new features to wow people in a technologically advanced game saturated society. That’s saying a lot. And it’s a great deal of work, blood, sweat, and tears to accomplish even a modicum of what most construe as success. Almost enough that one would contemplate selling his soul to the devil in order to make his dream come true. What’s one infinitesimal, abstract idea of being when compared to seeing the look of joy in your daughter’s eyes when she sees the characters she helped make up in three dimensions? Her best friend’s grin when he talks about sorcery and magic as if it’s more real to him than the ground beneath his feet? Would you do it? Sell your soul to some cosmic force to create your wildest fantasy? Wouldn’t you? Sounds like a decent deal to some, of course, no one ever really reads the fine print. Always read the fine print. I implore you to always doubt the honeyed words thrown your way. Because the devil is in the details, kids.

Mephisto made his characteristically ironic bow, but as he turned to go, Fatty spontaneously put his hand on Mephisto's shoulder in a gesture of friendship. In all the eons of time in Mephisto's immortal life, he had never experienced friendship freely offered. If Mephistopheles had not lost his soul to Lucifer, Fatty would have touched it.

Mephisto tipped back his chair and surveyed the ceiling. "A small home-grown putsch brewing at Infernal Mansions is there? Beelzebub getting ideas above his station while I'm in the basement? A small reminder about power and one's place in the infernal hierarchy is due, I think…."and a red glow burned deep in the pits of his coal-black eyes,

The watershed moment,” said Ann Nocenti, “was when Shooter said every single comic had to have a ‘can’t-must’ moment: I am not a thief . . . I don’t want to steal. But I must steal because my grandmother is starving. Every comic had to have that in the first three pages. Literally, a panel where the superhero had to say, ‘I can’t steal—but I must, for my grandmother.’ Or, ‘I can’t kill Mephisto—but I must, because he has my soul.’ He was sending comics back to the Bullpen to have the ‘can’t-must’ panel squeezed in, in the middle of the page.