Garth Ennis Quotes

You work for the devil, you better be ready to die for him.

They're looking for guys like us, he says, young and hungry, not done yet. I say I'm not hungry, Rick, all I am is angry. He says that'll do just fine.

I'm the perfect girl. You read about me in Maxim or whatever. I tell dirty jokes like I'm one of the guys, and I'm sitting there in my panties and bra so you can see I'm a piece of ass in the bargain. Except I'm real, so I come with all kinds of complications.

Don't take no shit off fools. An' you judge a person by what's in 'em, not how they look. An' you do the right thing. You gotta be one of the good guys, son: 'cause there's way too many of the bad.

Never plan an act of violence. Just let it happen natural.

As the scripts come in they are sent to the artists, and the artists are either very busy, or ready to start.

Fuck with the bull, you get the horns.

It would have shown people that I was prepared to do that kind of work, although I find myself in a position now where I don't really need to and I could pick and choose the kind of characters I'd like to do.

Fuck, that's good. That's habit-formin'.

We ain't got time for a goddamn poetry recital. An' your juices feel like rain on the inferno? What the fuck is that, is that from the letter you wrote to penthouse?

I don't think this one's business as usual. Me evil cunt sense is tinglin'.

Preacher: "This is the word of God!"
Constantine: "The edited word of God

Agent Brendel: These are the descendants of our Lord. I myself have seen the documents that prove it. We have protected them and their predecessors for nineteen centuries, and whatever their appearance now, we believe - we know - their child will be the next messiah.

Starr: He's shitting in his hand, Brendel.

The brother hurls his feces at, and hits Agent Brendel in the face

Agent Brendel: Have faith, Herr Starr.

Churches are just clubs for people who like to join things.

Dude, are you like English or something--?

Yeah, That's right, dude. I'm like English.

I get down on my knees every mornin' an' give eternal thanks for the existence of girls in a otherwise pointless universe.

Well if I ever stick a cape on an' start usin' ordinary human bein's to wipe me arse with, you'll know you were right to worry, won't you?

I don't necessarily write everything as automatically assuming it will be collected, there's nothing that says Hitman will be collected, though it might be.

God: But it is my creation...!

The Saint of Killers: It's outgrown you.

Constantine: "Bullocks. Anyone'll do anything."
Chas: "What? Come on, John, everyone's got a line they reach!"
Constantine: "Helen used to be the wildest woman I ever knew, Chas. A night out with her and you knew the reason we're all here, you knew what we could all be if we made the effort..She never drank or took anything and I knew she'd never need to and now look at the bleedin' state of her. No one has a line and no one has a soddin' moral code either, not outside a John Wayne movie

You know you can be a real bitch sometimes."

"I can be a perfect cunt.

It's the time to run away an' hide under the bed, an' hope the world's still in one piece when you come out again.

There'd be no point trynna blackmail a bloke everyone already knows is a cunt, would there?

You know, I think I did originally have some sort of idea of maybe a Where Eagles Dare kind of mission against impossible odds, but it really sort of died before I had a chance to really go anywhere with it, and then just doing the book was out of the question.

What happens when your world ends? Your lover steals your heart ... and your father casts you out ... and you fall.

Preacher is a book that somehow allows me time by its settling on it's characters, that sort of modern gothic western feel. You're not likely to see the boat veering too far from that.

It doesn`t matter who you are,or how good you got things. Sooner or later,shit goes wrong for everybody. Sooner or later,there comes a time when all you want to do is shout Fuck you to the world.

Christ, what a sad collection of losers, mm?'

'Too much time on their hands, mate. Leads to poetry.

With a mini series you can give the story a proper sense of pacing, a proper sense of closure.

That's what you get when a bunch of fucks in tights try to save the goddamn day.

Men are only so much use. Men are boys.

I'm the one who steps from the shadows, all trenchcoat and cigarette and arrogance, ready to deal with the madness. Oh, I've got it all sewn up. I can save you. If it takes the last drop of your blood, I'll drive your demons away. I'll kick them in the bollocks and spit on them when they're down and then I'll be gone back into darkness, leaving only a nod and a wink and a wisecrack. I walk my path alone ... who would walk with me?

You're the only person who means anything to me in the whole world, you're all I've got..."

"Well then you've got nothin.

I tend to forget what I'm doing will ever be read while I'm writing it, and just get on with the task at hand.

I caught a glimpse of heaven once. The Angels showed me. The idea was I'd kill for them. Clean up their mistakes on Earth. Eventually redeem myself.

Tried it. Didn't like it. Told them where to stick it. So they brought me up to heaven, to see what I'd be missing. A wife. A son. A daughter. I hadn't seen them since they bled out in my arms. Then I was cast down.

Back to a world of killers. Rapists. Psychos. Perverts. A brand new evil every minute, spewed out as fast as men can think them up. A world where pitching a criminal dwarf off a skyscraper to tell his fellow scum you're back is a sane and rational act. The angels thought it would be hell for me.

(Said dwarf hits the ground with a splat)
But they were wrong.

Welcome Back, Frank. Says New York City.

Well, I once recall an old master sergeant once telling me that NCOs look after the men so that officers can figure out how to get them killed. That's the difference between maintenance and command.

I can melt steel, fucker, I'll microwave your guts and punch them our your asshole.

If the Devil created Texas like some folks say he did, this is where he rested on the seventh day.

As the old saying goes: With great power comes the total fuckin' certainty that you're gonna turn into a cunt.

It's nice to be in a situation where the two books that I write for a sort of regular monthly income are also works that I enjoy immensely, rather than them being some kind of bread and butter, do it because you have to do it.

I guess this is where they send the abortions that live.

I'm sweetness an' motherfuckin' light. Filled from goddamn head to toe wit' love.

You gotta be one of the good guys, 'cause there's way too many of the bad.

I'm sure you're aware, with the time it takes to put these books together, everything can suddenly start coming out at once even though I wrote anything between one and five years ago.

Wouldn't want to write the X-Men, and I suppose the X-Men is the ultimate Marvel comic, and I really wouldn't want to go anywhere near it at all, although on the other had I wouldn't mind having a crack at something like the Punisher.

I've seen a fair bit of the States and the rest of the world, and I'm convinced that there's nowhere I'd be happier, there's nowhere I'm missing out on because I'm in N.Y.

There's immense fun to be had as long as you can sort of sneak it past DC. I have been told on occasion that I need to have more respect for these characters.

Christ, I think I'd grow old if I lost you.

All right, funny man. Some of the shite I've seen in the last couple o' years makes AIDS monkeys sound downright sensible.

After all, you can't really blame the Waffen S.S. for doing what comes naturally. But a funny thing happened on the way to the moral high ground.

The comics I read as a kid were much more influenced by TV and movies. Encountering superheroes as an adult without that kind of childhood sentimentality, it just doesn't allow you, or in my case at least, it wouldn't let me take the characters seriously.

Why is it the greatest champions of the white race always turn out to be the worst examples of it? You! Where the fuck is your chin?

An interesting man. He was a last minute replacement as Bush's running mate, when the original candidate managed to say "Thy Kingdom Cunt" at a prayer breakfast.

No, I would not say that assault with a baseball bat constitutes "justice being done.

I thought you an' I'd already settled the roles in the fucker/fuckee relationship! I guess I thought wrong!