black
grey
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red
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For every kind of vampire, there is a kind of cross.

Thomas Pynchon

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.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Difference Notice Place Record Universe Yourself
Idle dreaming is often of the essence of what we do.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Dreams Essence Stupidity
Ills are many, blessings few, but dreams tonight will shelter you.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Blessing Dreams Home Night Protection Yourself
They plot, they plot, sleeping or afoot they never let up.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Let Go Planning Sleep
Shall I project a world?
THOMAS PYNCHON

One Liner World
Someday it’ll all be done by machine. Information machines.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Computer Information Technology Transformation
If the world offered nothing, nowhere to support or make bearable whatever her private grief was, then it is that world, and not she, that is at fault.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Grief Mistake Offering Privacy Support World
It is simply wrong to begin with a theme, symbol or other abstract unifying agent, and then try to force characters and events to conform to it.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Beginning Character Force Simplicity Try Wrong
Someday she might replace whatever of her had gone away by some prosthetic device, a dress of a certain color, a phrase in a letter, another lover.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Color Device Herself Lover Replacement
Perhaps its familiarity rendered it temporarily invisible to you.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Illusion Invisible Temporary Yourself
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.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Freedom Identity Name Place Purpose Road
The reality is in this head. Mine. I’m the projector at the planetarium, all the closed little universe visible in the circle of that stage is coming out of my mouth, eyes, and sometimes other orifices also.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Eyes Head Reality Universe Visible
Can’t say it often enough — change your hair, change your life.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Change Enough Hairs Life Yourself
Through the machineries of greed, pettiness, and the abuse of power, love occurs.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Abuse Greedy Love Machine Power Technology
Time is never wasted if you remember to bring along something to read.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Book Reading Time Wasted Time Yourself
I was dreaming about my grandfather. A very old man, at least as old as I am now, 91. I thought, when I was a boy, that he had been 91 all his life. Now I feel as if I have been 91 all my life.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Boy Dreams Himself Life Man Myself Old Thinking

For every kind of vampire, there is a kind of cross.

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For every kind of vampire, there is a kind of cross.

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