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.
THOMAS PYNCHONSomeday it’ll all be done by machine. Information machines.
More Thomas Pynchon Quotes
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What are the stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?
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For every kind of vampire, there is a kind of cross.
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Someday it’ll all be done by machine. Information machines.
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Despair came over her, as it will when nobody around has any sexual relevance to you.
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All variables are independent.
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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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Length is usually intensity. Not time.
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There was no difference between the behavior of a god and the operations of pure chance.
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Behind the hieroglyphic streets there would either be a transcendent meaning, or only the earth.
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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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Get too conceptual, too cute and remote, and your characters die on the page.
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Our history is an aggregate of last moments.
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Let me be unambiguous. I prefer not to be photographed.
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Real flight and dreams of flight go together. Both are part of the same movement. Not A before B, but all together.
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Perhaps its familiarity rendered it temporarily invisible to you.
THOMAS PYNCHON