Someday it’ll all be done by machine. Information machines.
THOMAS PYNCHONInformation. 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?
More Thomas Pynchon Quotes
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There was no difference between the behavior of a god and the operations of pure chance.
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What, I should only trust good people? Man, good people get bought and sold every day. Might as well trust somebody evil once in a while, it makes no more or less sense.
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A woman is only half of something there are usually two sides to.
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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.
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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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Time is never wasted if you remember to bring along something to read.
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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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Can’t say it often enough — change your hair, change your life.
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Let me be unambiguous. I prefer not to be photographed.
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Everybody gets told to write about what they know. The trouble with many of us is that at the earlier stages of life we think we know everything- or to put it more usefully, we are often unaware of the scope and structure of our ignorance.
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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.
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It all comes down, as it must, to the desires of individual men. Oh, and women too of course, bless their empty little heads.
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You know what a miracle is. Not what Bakunin said. But another world’s intrusion into this one. Most of the time we coexist peacefully, but when we do touch there’s cataclysm.
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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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Ills are many, blessings few, but dreams tonight will shelter you.
THOMAS PYNCHON