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Quote by Marilyn Manson

“My grandfather had been the ugliest, darkest, foulest, most depraved figure of my childhood, more beast than human, and I had grown up to be him, locked in the basement with my secrets as the rest of the family reveled in the petty and ordinary upstairs. Down there, I saw my black, ancient, ineluctable core exposed, like a crab forced out of its shell--dirty, vulnerable, and obscene. For the first time in my life, I was truly alone.”

Quote by Marilyn Manson

Work

The Long Hard Road Out of Hell

This autobiography presents a first-person account of Brian Hugh Warner, known professionally as Marilyn Manson, detailing his childhood, formative experiences, and the creation of his provocative stage persona. The narrative covers his journey from a troubled youth in Ohio to becoming the frontman of the industrial metal band Marilyn Manson, exploring themes of rebellion, artistic expression, and the challenges of navigating fame and public scrutiny. The book offers insight into the cultural and musical landscape of the 1990s, as well as the controversies surrounding the artist's work and public image. more

Author

Marilyn Manson
Marilyn Manson

Marilyn Manson, born Brian Warner, is an American musician, actor, and visual artist. He is renowned for his unique musical style and stage persona, being one of the key figures in industrial and gothic rock. Marilyn Manson's music blends various musical elements, including rock, metal, electronic, and classical music, often exploring themes of darkness, death, and the supernatural. more

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“What am I doing here?” she demanded, bewildered. “You’re having dinner,” her little brother said. “Stop it! I’m not hungry. Stop it!” John held the spoon in front of her. His cherubic face was dark with anger. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.” “What are you talking about?” Mary demanded. “You said you wouldn’t do it. You wouldn’t leave me alone,” John said. “But you tried, didn’t you?” “I don’t know what you’re babbling about.” She noticed Astrid then, leaning against a filing cabinet. Astrid looked like she’d been dragged through the middle of a dog fight. Little Pete was sitting cross-legged, rocking back and forth. He was chanting, “Good-bye, Nestor. Good-bye, Nestor.” “Mary, you have an eating disorder,” Astrid said. “The secret is out. So cut the crap.” “Eat,” John ordered, and shoved a spoonful of food in her mouth. None too gently. “Swallow,” John ordered. “Let me—” “Shut up, Mary.”