I’m actually not making a comment about how the characters in the work view themselves at all. The entire premise of the genre is the “Great Man” view of history. That certain people, through ability or ambition, stand above others and define society by their actions. The difference between superheroes and villians isn’t self-image (which is frankly irrelevant) but that villians want to use their “greatness” to change things, while heroes want to maintain them.

Certain people are inherently superior to the common masses, who are powerless before the conflicts between these great men.

woke

Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key. Yog-Sothoth is the threshold.

Past, present, future. All are one in Yog-Sothoth.

You rolled snake…in the kitchen.

THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN. THE SUN.

“You need to paint the King of Beasts.”

Paints a perpetually confused inbred.

“…I’m going to allow this.”

“Dogs are arseholes.”
Dog people: >:(, how dare you!

“Cats are arseholes.”
Cat people: We know.

Bayonets “modern technology”.
Wears woven cloth and uses forged steel.

Hypocrite.

To be humiliated or humbled.

Folk etymology: it comes from the poor having to catch and eat crows (which aparently taste disgusting) to prevent starving to death.

Greetings, Kronar, Son of Man.

How appropriate, you fight like a cow.

(because someone had to)

I think I think, therefore, I think I think I am, I think?

This is as close to a statement of certainty as you will get from philosophy.

My dad, actually.

Jesus Christ! Supercar! Hoonin’ 'round the corner like a Yamaha!

Ceasar conquered Gaul, but Nicomedes conquered Ceasar!

Also “yielded to Hephaeston’s thighs” - maybe Diogenes.

Be honest.

sigh No-one ever wanted to work. It was a requirement for your existence to continue being tolerated.

Thank you.

In this period of history? The union is murdering the Jarls every couple of generations.

Maybe I’m just being prejudiced, but I don’t think I’ll be taking survival advice from an extinct species.

Ten fingers gives you either base six (one hand for zero magnitude, other hand for one magnitude) or base eleven (both hands for zero magnitude).

I aspired to the purity of simple carbs.
Your kind, cling to their complex carbohydrates. As though they will not break down and fatten you. One day the diet you call balanced will starve you, and you will beg my kind to save you.
But I am already saved…

Because sucrose is eternal.

Even in death I serve the Nomnissiah.