It was miraculous. It was almost no trick at all, he saw, to turn vice into virtue and slander into truth, impotence into abstinence, arrogance into humility, plunder into philanthropy, thievery into honor, blasphemy into wisdom, brutality into patriotism, and sadism into justice. Anybody could do it; it required no brains at all. It merely required no character.
--Joseph Heller, Catch-22
The Saint whose water can light lamps, the clairvoyant whose lapse in recall is the breath of God, the true paranoid for whom all is organized in spheres joyful or threatening about the central pulse of himself, the dreamer whose puns probe ancient fetid shafts and tunnels of truth all act in the same special relevance to the word, or whatever it is the word is there, buffering, to protect us from. The act of metaphor than was a thrust at truth and a lie, depending where you were: inside, safe or outside, lost.
--Thomas Pynchon, The Crying Of Lot 49
But it's the truth even if it didn't happen.
--Ken Kesey, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest
Take me with you. I want a doomed love. I want streets at night, wind and rain, no one wondering where I am.
--Michael Cunningham, The Hours
There are houses in Gloucester where grooves have been worn into the floorboards by women pacing past an upstairs window, looking out to sea.
--Sebastian Junger, The Perfect Storm: A True Story Of Men Against The Sea
--Joseph Heller, Catch-22
The Saint whose water can light lamps, the clairvoyant whose lapse in recall is the breath of God, the true paranoid for whom all is organized in spheres joyful or threatening about the central pulse of himself, the dreamer whose puns probe ancient fetid shafts and tunnels of truth all act in the same special relevance to the word, or whatever it is the word is there, buffering, to protect us from. The act of metaphor than was a thrust at truth and a lie, depending where you were: inside, safe or outside, lost.
--Thomas Pynchon, The Crying Of Lot 49
But it's the truth even if it didn't happen.
--Ken Kesey, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest
Take me with you. I want a doomed love. I want streets at night, wind and rain, no one wondering where I am.
--Michael Cunningham, The Hours
There are houses in Gloucester where grooves have been worn into the floorboards by women pacing past an upstairs window, looking out to sea.
--Sebastian Junger, The Perfect Storm: A True Story Of Men Against The Sea
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