All the animals, the plants, the minerals, even other kinds of men, are being broken and reassembled every day, to preserve an elite few, who are the loudest to theorize on freedom, but the least free of all.
THOMAS PYNCHONAll the animals, the plants, the minerals, even other kinds of men, are being broken and reassembled every day, to preserve an elite few, who are the loudest to theorize on freedom, but the least free of all.
More Thomas Pynchon Quotes
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Length is usually intensity. Not time.
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What sort of an age is this where a man becomes one’s enemy only when his back is turned?
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Idle dreaming is often of the essence of what we do.
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You go from dream to dream inside me. You have passage to my last shabby corner, and there, among the debris, you’ve found life. I’m no longer sure which of all the words, images, dreams or ghosts are ‘yours’ and which are ‘mine.’ It’s past sorting out.
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For every kind of vampire, there is a kind of cross.
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What goes around may come around, but it never ends up exactly the same place, you ever notice? Like a record on a turntable, all it takes is one groove’s difference and the universe can be on into a whole ‘nother song.
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To have humanism we must first be convinced of our humanity. As we move further into decadence this becomes more difficult.
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The general public has long been divided into two parts; those who think that science can do anything and those who are afraid it will.
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It takes, unhappily, no more than a desk and writing supplies to turn any room into a confessional.
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All variables are independent.
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She may know a little, may think of herself, face and body, as ‘pretty’ but he could never tell her all the rest, how many other living things, birds, nights smelling of grass and rain, sunlit moments of simple peace, also gather in what she is to him.
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Every weirdo in the world is on my wavelength.
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Information. What’s wrong with dope and women? Is it any wonder the world’s gone insane, with information come to be the only real medium of exchange?
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But with a sigh he had released her hand, while she was so lost in the fantasy that she hadn’t felt it go away, as if he’d known the best moment to let go.
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There was no difference between the behavior of a god and the operations of pure chance.
THOMAS PYNCHON