Every weirdo in the world is on my wavelength.
THOMAS PYNCHONShe 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.
More Thomas Pynchon Quotes
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There is no real direction here, neither lines of power nor cooperation. Decisions are never really made – at best they manage to emerge, from a chaos of peeves, whims, hallucinations and all around assholery.
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He decided that we suffer from great temporal homesickness for the decade we were born in.
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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.
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For every kind of vampire, there is a kind of cross.
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Shall I project a world?
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She thougt of sunrise over the library slope at Cornell University that nobody out on it had seen because the slope faces west.
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There is nothing so loathsome as a sentimental surrealist.
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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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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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If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don’t have to worry about answers.
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Like so many named places in California it was less an identifiable city than a grouping of concepts–census tracts, special purpose bond-issue districts, shopping nuclei, all overlaid with access roads to its own freeway.
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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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Despair came over her, as it will when nobody around has any sexual relevance to you.
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Perhaps its familiarity rendered it temporarily invisible to you.
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All variables are independent.
THOMAS PYNCHON