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Every weirdo in the world is on my wavelength.

Thomas Pynchon

Life’s single lesson: that there is more accident to it than a man can ever admit to in a lifetime and stay sane.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Accident Lesson Life Man Sanity Time
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.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Beautiful Body Face Herself Light Live Moments Peace Simplicity Sun Thinking
Some of us are afraid of dying; others of human loneliness. Profane was afraid of land or seascapes like this, where nothing else lived but himself.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Afraid Death Himself Human Land Live Lonely Sea
A screaming comes across the sky.
THOMAS PYNCHON

One Liner Scream Sky
Love with your mouth shut, help without breaking your ass or publicizing it: keep cool, but care.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Break Care Help Logic Public 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.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Fantasy Kind Vampire
Real flight and dreams of flight go together. Both are part of the same movement. Not A before B, but all together.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Connection Dreams Movement Reality Togetherness
Our history is an aggregate of last moments.
THOMAS PYNCHON

History Moments Ourselves
Get too conceptual, too cute and remote, and your characters die on the page.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Character Concept Death Page Writing Yourself
There is nothing so loathsome as a sentimental surrealist.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Emotion Realist Sentimental
Someday it’ll all be done by machine. Information machines.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Computer Information Technology Transformation
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 PYNCHON

Fantasy Feeling Hands Let Go Lost Moments
Shall I project a world?
THOMAS PYNCHON

One Liner World
She thougt of sunrise over the library slope at Cornell University that nobody out on it had seen because the slope faces west.
THOMAS PYNCHON

Education Herself Rise See Structure Sun Thinking
My belief is that “recluse” is a code word generated by journalists; meaning, “doesn’t like to talk to reporters.”
THOMAS PYNCHON

Believe Code Journalist Media Myself Report Talk Word

Every weirdo in the world is on my wavelength.

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Every weirdo in the world is on my wavelength.

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