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Quote by Theodore Sturgeon

“I have seen a lot of ugly things as a trainee and as a nurse, but they don't bother me very much. It's not that the familiarity hardens one; it is rather that one learns the knack of channelling one's emotions around the ugly thing.”

Quote by Theodore Sturgeon

Book:The Perfect Host
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The Perfect Host

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Author

Theodore Sturgeon
Theodore Sturgeon

Theodore Sturgeon (February 26, 1918 – May 8, 1985) was an American science fiction writer and short story master, known for his unique narrative style and profound humanistic concerns. Born in Staten Island, New York, as Edward Hamilton Waldo, he later adopted his stepfather's surname. Active from the 1940s to the 1970s, Sturgeon wrote classic stories like 'Microcosmic God' and 'More Than Human,' and coined 'Sturgeon's Law'—'90% of science fiction is crud, but then 90% of everything is crud.' His works explored human nature, emotion, and social margins, deeply influencing later SF. He won Hugo and Nebula Awards and is often called 'the Shakespeare of science fiction.' more

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“Yeah, I miss those days some. But all I gotta do is get a whiff of blood, anybody’s blood, and all those days of sunlight on girls’ hair and sunlight on chicory flowers and the hot wind blowin’ in your face and shine money and sheriffs swearing a blue streak ’cause I cut their tires, all of it just blows away. If Mitch Lily was still alive and walked in some bar, I’d drink with him and talk about old times for as long as I could stand it, and then, when that hot brick of hunger started cookin’ my guts, I’d ask him what he’s drivin’ now, and he’d say, “Aw, nothing like in them days,” and I’d say, “Show me anyway, Mitch Lily,” and out we’d go to the parking lot and I’d bend him down between two cars and first he’d think I was playin’ a joke and I’d laugh, too, and then he’d try to stand up and say, “Quit horsin’,” and say, “I ain’t,” real cold and he’d smell death in my mouth under the whiskey and he’d get a little scared and start tryin’ hard to stand up and push me off and he’d be surprised that he couldn’t stop me and I’d open up his throat and drink. Because as strong as he was, I’m stronger now. And as good as those days were, these nights are better, and the reason is blood and blood and blood. No shine, no pussy, and no love of Jesus ever tasted as good as the dirtiest nigger junkie’s blood, and that’s how it is. And that’s all right. Life, or whatever this is, is all right.”

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Book:The Suicide Motor Club
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