Chapter: Chapter 13
↓ Transcript
Dee (sitting up): I mean, maybe the guy who said that just meant that everybody dies. So I destroy things as a matter of course, but not intentionally.
Emily: Oh. I'm pretty sure anyone who describes you as a destroyer of anything is someone who thinks you're a nasty guy who likes killing people intentionally.
Dee: Well, maybe. Do you know what the context of the quote was?
Emily: Um... here we go, he was actually talking about the atomic bomb.
Dee: Ugh, that'd be right. What are you doing, anyway? What are you looking up?
Emily: Oh, just quotes about stuff.
Dee: About me?
Emily: Not specifically, but now I am. Here we go, Wikiquote. Quotes about Death. ...
"Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep
And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep."
Too true, Byron, but at least we wake up from sleep. Oh gee, listen to this one:
"Death is the king of this world: tis his park
Where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of pain
Are music for his banquet."
How brutal!
Dee: George Eliot, huh. I wonder if he actually believed all that, or if it was some kind of... Ah, doesn't matter.
Emily: People just don't like you very much, do they?
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Alt text: they don't know George Eliot is a woman; they don't know who Oppenheimer is; Emily has at least heard of Byron before. Sometimes one is a teenager just searching random stuff with no context
Emily: Oh. I'm pretty sure anyone who describes you as a destroyer of anything is someone who thinks you're a nasty guy who likes killing people intentionally.
Dee: Well, maybe. Do you know what the context of the quote was?
Emily: Um... here we go, he was actually talking about the atomic bomb.
Dee: Ugh, that'd be right. What are you doing, anyway? What are you looking up?
Emily: Oh, just quotes about stuff.
Dee: About me?
Emily: Not specifically, but now I am. Here we go, Wikiquote. Quotes about Death. ...
"Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep
And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep."
Too true, Byron, but at least we wake up from sleep. Oh gee, listen to this one:
"Death is the king of this world: tis his park
Where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of pain
Are music for his banquet."
How brutal!
Dee: George Eliot, huh. I wonder if he actually believed all that, or if it was some kind of... Ah, doesn't matter.
Emily: People just don't like you very much, do they?
----
Alt text: they don't know George Eliot is a woman; they don't know who Oppenheimer is; Emily has at least heard of Byron before. Sometimes one is a teenager just searching random stuff with no context