Effing

“Fuckdamn,” said Conté, totally unable to help himself when the sums involved vanished over his mental horizon. “Beg pardon, Doña Sofia.”
“You should.” She drained her snifter in one quick unladylike gulp. “Your calculations are off. This merits a triple fuckdamn at least.”
― Scott Lynch, The Lies of Locke Lamora

“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”
― Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House

“Much Madness Is Divinest Sense

Much Madness is divinest Sense —
To a discerning Eye —
Much Sense — the starkest Madness —
'Tis the Majority
In this, as All, prevail —
Assent — and you are sane —
Demur — you're straightway dangerous —
And handled with a Chain —”
― Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

“So basically
be careful never to be too awesome
or you will be mysteriously executed
just like Martin Luther King
and Gandhi
and Abraham Lincoln
and JFK
and Malcolm X
and Sitting Bull
and Crazy Horse
and... wow
why are we so mean to our best people?”
― Cory O'Brien, George Washington Is Cash Money: A No-Bullshit Guide to the United Myths of America