text:
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is a 1969 film about two Western bank/train robbers who flee to Bolivia when the law gets too close.
 * Directed by George Roy Hill and written by William Goldman.

You never met a pair like Butch and The Kid.taglines

Butch Cassidy

 * Boy, y'know, every time I see 'Hole in the Wall' again, it's like seeing it fresh for the first time, and every time that happens, I keep asking myself the same question, 'How can I be so damn stupid as to keep comin' back here?'
 * If he'd just pay me what he's spending to make me stop robbing him, I'd stop robbing him.
 * [Butch throws his bicycle away] The future's all yours, you lousy bicycles.
 * "Not to be a sore loser, but, when this is done if I'm dead, kill him."
 * Who are those guys?

Others

 * Sheriff Ray Bledsoe: You know, you should have let yourself get killed a long time ago when you had the chance. See, you may be the biggest thing that ever hit this area, but you're still two-bit outlaws. I never met a soul more affable than you, Butch, or faster than the Kid, but you're still nothing but two-bit outlaws on the dodge. It's over, don't you get that? Your time is over and you're gonna die bloody, and all you can do is choose where.
 * Percy Garris: I'm not crazy; I'm just colorful. That's what happens when you live 10 years alone in Bolivia: you get colorful... [He is shot dead]

Dialogue

 * Butch: What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful.
 * Guard: People kept robbing it.
 * Butch: Small price to pay for beauty.

 * Macon: Well, it looks like you just about cleaned everybody, fella - you haven't lost a hand since you got the deal. What's the secret of your success?
 * Sundance: Prayer.

 * Macon: I didn't know you were the Sundance Kid when I said you were cheating. If I draw on you, you'll kill me.
 * Sundance: There's that possibility.
 * Butch: No, you'd be killin' yourself. So why don't you just invite us to stick around? You can do it, and easy. Come on. Come on.
 * Macon: [stiffly] Why don't you stick around?
 * Butch: Thanks but, hah, we gotta get goin'. [He scoops up the Kid's winnings into his hat]
 * Macon: Hey Kid! Hey Kid! How good are ya?
 * [Sundance dives, whirls around, fans his gun and fires, demonstrating his lightning-fast draw. He detaches the gunman's gunbelt from his waist and sends his gun skittering and spiraling across the floor]
 * Butch: [to Sundance as they both leave] Like I've been tellin' ya, over the hill.

 * Sundance: What's your idea this time?
 * Butch: Bolivia.
 * Sundance: What's Bolivia?
 * Butch: Bolivia. That's a country, stupid! In Central or South America, one or the other.
 * Sundance: Why don't we just go to Mexico instead?
 * Butch: 'Cause all they got in Mexico is sweat and there's too much of that here. Look, if we'd been in business during the California Gold Rush, where would we have gone? California - right?
 * Sundance: Right.
 * Butch: So when I say Bolivia, you just think California. You wouldn't believe what they're finding in the ground down there. They're just fallin' into it. Silver mines, gold mines, tin mines, payrolls so heavy we'd strain ourselves stealin' 'em.
 * Sundance: [chuckling] You just keep thinkin', Butch. That's what you're good at.
 * Butch: Boy, I got vision, and the rest of the world wears bifocals.

 * Harvey: Guns or knives?
 * Butch: Neither.
 * Harvey: Pick!
 * Butch: I don't wanna shoot with ya, Harvey.
 * Harvey: [pulling out a large Bowie knife] Anything you say, Butch.
 * Butch: [low voice, to Sundance] Maybe there's a way to make a profit in this. Bet on Logan.
 * Sundance: I would, but who'd bet on you?
 * Harvey: Sundance, when we're done and he's dead, you're welcome to stay.
 * Butch: [low voice, to Sundance] Listen, I don't mean to be a sore loser, but when it's done, if I'm dead, kill him.
 * Sundance Kid: [low voice to Butch] Love to.
 * [waves to Harvey and smiles]
 * Butch: No, no, not yet, not until me and Harvey get the rules straightened out.
 * Harvey: Rules? In a knife fight? No rules! [Butch kicks Harvey in the groin]
 * Butch: Well, if there aint' going to be any rules, let's get the fight started. Someone count. 1,2,3 go.
 * Sundance: 1,2,3, go! [Butch knocks Harvey out]
 * Flat Nose: I was really rooting for you, Butch.
 * Butch: Well, thank you, Flatnose. That's what sustained me in my time of trouble.

 * Butch: Do you believe I'm broke already?
 * Etta: Why is there never any money, Butch?
 * Butch: Well, I swear, Etta, I don't know. I've been working like a dog all my life and I can't get a penny ahead.
 * Etta: Sundance says it's because you're a soft touch, and always taking expensive vacations, and buying drinks for everyone, and you're a rotten gambler.
 * Butch: Well that might have something to do with it.

 * Butch: Well, the way I figure it, we can either fight or give. If we give, we go to jail.
 * Sundance: I've been there already.
 * Butch: We could fight - they'll stay right where they are and starve us out. Or go for position, shoot us. Might even get a rock slide started, get us that way. What else can they do?
 * Sundance: They could surrender to us, but I wouldn't count on that. They're goin' for position, all right. Better get ready. [He loads his gun]
 * Butch: Kid - the next time I say, 'Let's go someplace like Bolivia,' let's go someplace like Bolivia.
 * Sundance: Next time. Ready?
 * Butch: [looking into the deep canyon and the river far below] No, we'll jump.
 * Sundance: Like hell we will.
 * Butch: No, it'll be OK - if the water's deep enough, we don't get squished to death. They'll never follow us.
 * Sundance: How do you know?
 * Butch: Would you jump if you didn't have to?
 * Sundance: I have to and I'm not gonna.

 * Butch: I'll jump first.
 * Sundance: Nope.
 * Butch: Then you jump first.
 * Sundance: No, I said!
 * Butch: What's the matter with you?!
 * Sundance: I can't swim!
 * Butch: [laughing] Why, you crazy — the fall'll probably kill ya!

 * Sundance: [to Etta] What I'm saying is, if you want to go, I won't stop you. But the minute you start to whine or make a nuisance, I don't care where we are, I'm dumping you flat.
 * Butch: Don't sugarcoat it like that, Kid. Tell her straight.
 * Etta: I'm 26, and I'm single, and a school teacher, and that's the bottom of the pit. And the only excitement I've known is here with me now. I'll go with you, and I won't whine, and I'll sew your socks, and I'll stitch you when you're wounded, and I'll do anything you ask of me except one thing. I won't watch you die. I'll miss that scene if you don't mind.

 * Butch: Well, you know, it could be worse. You get a lot more for your money in Bolivia, I checked on it.
 * Sundance: What could they have here that you could possibly want to buy?
 * Butch: Jeesh, all Bolivia can't look like this.
 * Sundance: How do you know? This might be the garden spot of the whole country. People may travel hundreds of miles just to get to this spot where we're standing now. This might be the Atlantic City, New Jersey of all Bolivia for all you know.
 * Butch: Look, I know a lot more about Bolivia than you know about Atlantic City, New Jersey, I can tell you that!
 * Sundance: Aha! You do, huh? I was born there, I was born in New Jersey. Was brought up there, so...
 * Butch: You're from the east? I didn't know that.
 * Sundance: The total tonnage of what you don't know is enough to shatter...
 * Etta: I'm not sure we're accomplishing as much as we'd like here.
 * Sundance: [to Butch] Listen, your job is to back me up, because you'd starve without me. [to Etta] And you, your job is to shut up!
 * Butch: He'll feel a lot better after he's robbed a couple of banks.
 * Sundance: Bolivia. Hahahaha...

 * Butch: I think they're in the trees up ahead.
 * Sundance: In the bushes on the left.
 * Butch: I'm telling you they're in the trees up ahead.
 * Sundance: You take the trees, I'll take the bushes.
 * Percy: Will you two beginners cut it out?
 * Butch: Well, we're just trying to spot an ambush, Mr. Garris.
 * Percy: Morons. I've got morons on my team. Nobody is going to rob us going down the mountain. We have got no money going down the mountain. When we have got the money, on the way back, then you can sweat.

 * Butch: Kid, there's somethin' I think I oughta tell ya. I never shot anybody before.
 * Sundance: One hell of a time to tell me!

 * [During a gunfight with the Bolivian police, Butch and Sundance run low on ammunition]
 * Butch: We're going to run out unless we can get to that mule and get some more.
 * Sundance: I'll go.
 * Butch: This is no time for bravery. I'll let ya!

 * Butch: Is that what you call giving cover?
 * Sundance: Is that what you call running? If I knew you were gonna stroll...
 * Butch: You never could shoot, not from the very beginning.
 * Sundance: And you were all mouth.

 * Butch: [last lines — as the pair are outnumbered and pinned down] Wait a minute — you didn't see Lefors out there did you?
 * Sundance: Lefors? No, why?
 * Butch: Oh, good. For a moment there I thought we were in trouble.
 * Bolivian officer: [seeing Butch and Sundance come out] Fuego! Fuego! Fuego! [the screen freezes]

Cast

 * Paul Newman - Butch Cassidy
 * Robert Redford - Sundance Kid
 * Katharine Ross - Etta Place
 * Strother Martin - Percy Garris
 * Jeff Corey - Sheriff Ray Bledsoe
 * George Furth - Woodcock
 * Cloris Leachman - Whore
 * Ted Cassidy - Harvey Logan
 * Charles Dierkop - Flat Nose Curry

Taglines

 * You never met a pair like Butch and The Kid.
 * Just for the fun of it!
 * Not that it matters, but most of it is true.
 * They're taking trains... They're taking banks and they're taking one piece of baggage!

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

title: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid


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title: User talk:Flamedude~enwikiquote


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Thomas Pynchon

Thomas Ruggles Pynchon, Jr. (born 8 May 1937) is an American writer based in New York City, known for his dense and complex works of fiction.
 * See also:
 * Inherent Vice (film based on the novel)

Quotes

 * When Marilyn Monroe got out of the game, I wrote something like, "Southern California's special horror notwithstanding, 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."  I wrote that in the first few shook-up minutes after hearing the bulletin sandwiched in between Don and Phil Everly and surrounded by all manner of whoops and whistles coming out of an audio signal generator, like you are apt to hear on the provincial radio these days. But I don't think I'd take those words back. The world is at fault, not because it is inherently good or bad or anything but what it is, but because it doesn't prepare us in anything but body to get along with. Our souls it leaves to whatever obsolescences, bigotries, theories of education workable and un, parental wisdom or lack of it, happen to get in its more or less Brownian (your phrase) pilgrimage between the cord-cutting ceremony and the time they slide you down the chute into the oven, while the guy on the Wurlitzer plays Aba Daba Honeymoon because you had once told somebody it was the nadir of all American expression; only they didn't know what nadir meant but it must be good because of the vehemence with which you expressed yourself.
 * Letter to Jules Siegel, published in Cavalier magazine (August 1965); republished in "Pynchon notes 15" and ""The World is at Fault" at pynchonwiki.com

 * Why should things be easy to understand?
 * Pynchon's response to Jules Siegel about the complexity of V, as quoted in "Who Is Thomas Pynchon... And Why Did He Take Off With My Wife?", Playboy (March 1977)

 * Let me be unambiguous. I prefer not to be photographed.
 * Phone call to CNN as reported in a CNN article (5 June 1997)

 * My belief is that "recluse" is a code word generated by journalists... meaning, "doesn't like to talk to reporters."
 * Phone call to CNN (5 June 1997)

 * I did not write those letters. This has been a hoax that I've had nothing to do with. I'm sorry it's gone on as long as it has.
 * On the rumors that he had written a series of letters to a newspaper using the name Wanda Tinasky, in a phone call to CNN (5 June 1997)

 * Here's your quote: "Thomas Pynchon loved this book, almost as much as he loves cameras!" Hey, over here! Have your picture taken with a reclusive author! Today only, we'll throw in a free autograph! But wait, there's more!
 * Playing himself (depicted with a paper bag over his head) on an episode of The Simpsons, "Diatribe of a Mad Housewife".

V. (1963)

 * Christmas Eve, 1955, Benny Profane, wearing black levis, suede jacket, sneaker and big cowboy hat, happened to pass through Norfolk, Virginia.
 * First lines

But Soon enough he’d wale up the second, real time, to make again the tiresome discovery that it hadn’t really stopped being the same simple-minded literal pursuit; V. ambiguously a beast of venery, chased like the hart, hind or hare, chased like an obsolete or bizarre, or forbidden form of sexual delight. And clownish Stencil capering along behind her, bells a jingle, waving a wood, toy oxgoad. For no one’s amusement but his own.
 * Rachel was looking into the mirror at an angle of 45°, and so had a view of the face turned toward the room and the face on the other side, reflected in the mirror; here were time and reverse-time, co-existing, cancelling one another exactly out. Were there many such reference points, scattered throughout the world, perhaps only at nodes like this room which housed a transient population of the imperfect, the dissatisfied; did real time plus virtual or mirror-time equal zero and thus serve some half-understood moral purpose? Or was it only the mirror world that counted; only a promise of a kind that the inward bow of a nose-bridge or a promontory of extra cartilage at the chin meant a reversal of ill fortune such that the world of the altered would thenceforth run on mirror-time; work and love by mirror-light and be only, till death stopped the heart's ticking (metronome's music) quietly as light ceases to vibrate, an imp's dance under the century's own chandeliers....
 * Chapter Two, Part I
 * "You're Orthodox? No. Conservative? Young people never are. My parents were Orthodox. They believe, I believe, that whatever your father is, as long as your mother is Jewish, you are Jewish too because we all come from our mother's womb. A long unbroken chain of Jewish mothers going all the way back to Eve."
 * Chapter Two, Part I, Schoenmaker
 * The rest of the Crew partook of the same lethargy. Raoul wrote for television, keeping carefully in mind, and complaining bitterly about, all the sponsor-fetishes of that industry. Slab painted in sporadic bursts, referring to himself as a Catatonic Expressionist and his work as “the ultimate in non-communication.” Melvin played the guitar and sang liberal folk songs. The pattern would have been familiar—bohemian, creative, arty—except that it was even further removed from reality, Romanticism in its furthest decadence; being only an exhausted impersonation of poverty, rebellion and artistic “soul.” For it was the unhappy fact that most of them worked for a living and obtained the substance of their conversation from the pages of Time magazine and like publications
 * Chapter Two, Part II
 * As spread thighs are to the libertine, flights of migratory birds to the ornithologist, the working part of his tool bit to the production machinist, so was the letter V to young Stencil. He would dream perhaps once a week that it had all been a dream, and that now he’d awakened to discover the pursuit of V. was merely a scholarly quest after all, an adventure of the mind, in the tradition of ‘’The Golden Bough’’ or ‘’The White Goddess’’
 * Chapter Three
 * Perhaps history this century, thought Eigenvalue, is rippled with gathers in its fabric such that if we are situated, as Stencil seemed to be, at the bottom of a fold, it's impossible to determine warp, woof, or pattern anywhere else. By virtue, however, of existing in one gather it is assumed there are others, compartmented off into sinuous cycles each of which had come to assume greater importance than the weave itself and destroy any continuity. Thus it is that we are charmed by the funny-looking automobiles of the '30's, the curious fashions of the '20's, the particular moral habits of our grandparents. We produce and attend musical comedies about them and are conned into a false memory, a phony nostalgia about what they were. We are accordingly lost to any sense of continuous tradition. Perhaps if we lived on a crest, things would be different. We could at least see.
 * Chapter Seven, Part I

 * He had decided long ago that no Situation had any objective reality: it only existed in the minds of those who happened to be in on it at any specific moment. Since these several minds tended to form a sum total or complex more mongrel than homogeneous, The Situation must necessarily appear to a single observer much like a diagram in four dimensions to an eye conditioned to seeing the world in only three. Hence the success or failure of any diplomatic issue must vary directly with the degree of rapport achieved by the team confronting it. This had led to the near obsession with teamwork which had inspired his colleagues to dub him Soft-show Sydney, on the assumption that he was at his best working in front of a chorus line. But it was a neat theory, and he was in love with it. The only consolation he drew from the present chaos was that his theory managed to explain it.
 * Chapter Seven, Part VII
 * "You know how a boy is. There comes a time for departure, a point where he sees confirmed the suspicion he’d had for some time that his father is not a god, not even a oracle. He sees that he no longer has any right to any such father. So Vheissu becomes a bedtime story or fairly tale after all, and the boy a superior version of his merely human father."
 * Chapter Seven, Part VII
 * The eyes of New York women do not see the wandering bums or the boys with no place to go. Material wealth and getting laid strolled arm-in-arm the midway of Profane’s mind. If he’d been the type who evolves theories of history for his own amusement, he might have said all political events: wars, governments and uprisings, have the desire to get laid as their roots; because history unfolds according to economic forces and the only reason anybody wants to get rich is so he can get laid steadily, with whoever he chooses. All he believed at this point, on the bench behind the library was, that any body who worked for inanimate money so he could buy more inanimate objects was out of his head. Inanimate money was to get animate warmth, dead fingernails in the living shoulderblades, quick cries against the pillow, tangled hair, lidded eyes, listing loins.
 * Chapter Eight
 * Strangely the tumescence began to subside, the flesh at his neck to pale. Any sovereign or broken yo-yo must feel after a short time lying inert, rolling, falling: suddenly to have its hands it cannot escape. Hands it doesn’t want to escape. Know that the simple clockwork of itself has no more need for symptoms of inutility, lonesomeness, directionlessness, because now it has a path marked out for it over which it has no control. That’s what the feeling would be, if there were such things as animate yo-yos.
 * Chapter Eight
 * "Dream tonight of peacock tails, / Diamond fields and spouter whales. / Ills are many, blessings few, / But dreams tonight will shelter you."
 * Chapter Nine, Part I, Mondaugen
 * "History, the proverb says, is made at night. The European civil servant normally sleeps at night. What waits in his IN basket to confront him at nine in the morning is history."
 * Chapter Nine, Part I, Mondaugen
 * "Politics is a kind of engineering isn't it. With people as your raw material."
 * Chapter Nine, Part II, Mondaugen
 * "We simply grow up. In Florence, at age fifty-four, I was a brash youth. Had I known the Duse was there her poet chap might have found dangerous competition, ha-ha. The only trouble is that now, nearing eighty, I keep discovering that damned war has made the world older than I. The world frowns now on youth in a vacuum, it insists youth be turned-to, utilized, exploited. No time for pranks. No more Vheissus."
 * Chapter Nine, Part II, Godolphin
 * In the eighteenth century it was often convenient to regard man as a clockwork automaton. In the nineteenth century, with Newtonian physics pretty well assimilated and a lot of work in thermodynamics going on, man was looked on as a heat engine, about 40 per cent efficient. Now in the twentieth century, with nuclear and subatomic physics a going thing, man had become something which absorbs X-rays, gamma rays and neutrons.
 * Chapter Ten, Part II

 * Right and left; the hothouse and the street. The Right can only live and work hermetically, in the hothouse of the past, while outside the Left prosecute their affairs in the streets manipulated by mob violence. And cannot live but in the dreamscape of the future.
 * Epilogue

 * For a boy not getting any he had more woman problems than anybody he knew.

The Crying of Lot 49 (1966)

 * A number of frail girls... prisoners in the top room of a circular tower, embroidering a kind of tapestry which spilled out the slit windows and into a void, seeking hopelessly to fill the void: for all the other buildings and creatures, all the waves, ships and forests of the earth were contained in this tapestry, and the tapestry was the world.
 * Chapter 1

 * "Run away with me," said Roseman when the coffee came. "Where?" she asked. That shut him up.
 * Chapter 1
 * She looked down a slope, needing to squint for the sunlight, onto a vast sprawl of houses which had grown up all together, like a well-tended crop, from the dull brown earth; and she thought of the time she’d opened a transistor radio to replace a battery and seen her first printed circuit. The ordered swirl of houses and streets, from this high angle, sprang at her now with the same unexpected, astonishing clarity as the circuit card had. Though she knew even less about radios than about Southern Californians, there were to both outward patterns a hieroglyphic sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate. There’d seemed no limit to what the printed circuit could have told her (if she had tried to find out); so in her first minute of San Narciso, a revelation also trembled just past the threshold of her understanding.
 * Chapter 1
 * In Mexico City they somehow wandered into an exhibition of paintings by the beautiful Spanish exile Remedios Varo: in the central painting of a triptych, titled “Bordando el Manto Terrestre,” were a number of frail girls with heart-shaped faces, huge eyes, spun-gold hair, prisoners in the top room of a circular tower, embroidering a kind of tapestry which spilled out the slit windows and into a void, seeking hopelessly to fill the void: for all the other buildings and creatures, all the waves, ships and forests of the earth were contained in the tapestry, and the tapestry was the world.
 * Chapter 1
 * There'd been no escape. What did she so desire to escape from? Such a captive maiden, having plenty of time to think, soon realizes that her tower, its height and architecture, are like her ego only incidental: and what really keeps her where she is is magic, anonymous and malignant, visited upon her from outside and for no reason at all. Having no apparatus except gut fear and female cunning to examine this formless magic, to understand how it works, how to measure its field strength, count its lines of force, she may fall back on superstition, or take up a useful hobby like embroidery, or go mad, or marry a disc jockey. If the tower is everywhere and the knight of deliverance no proof against its magic, what else?
 * Chapter 1

 * "You one of those right wing nut outfits?" inquired the diplomatic Metzger. Fallopian twinkled. "They accuse us of being paranoids." "They?" inquired Metzger, twinkling also. "Us?" asked Oedipa.
 * Chapter 3

 * You don’t understand,” getting mad. “You guys, you’re like Puritans are about the Bible. So hung up with words, words. You know where that play exists, not in that file cabinet, not in any paperback you’re looking for, but—” a hand emerged from the veil of shower-steam to indicate his suspended head—“in here. That’s what I’m for. To give the spirit flesh. The words, who cares? They’re rote noises to hold line bashes with, to get past the bone barrier around an actor’s memory, right? But 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, sometimes other orifices also.
 * Chapter 3

 * "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."
 * Chapter 4
 * Teamwork," Koteks snarled, "is one word for it, yeah. What it really is is a way to avoid responsibility. It's a symptom of the gutlessness of the whole society.
 * Chapter 4
 * 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.
 * Chapter 5
 * “I came," she said, "hoping you could talk me out of a fantasy. "Cherish it!" cried Hilarious, fiercely. "What else do any of you have? Hold it tightly by it's little tentacle, don't let the Freudians coax it away or the pharmacists poison it out of you. Whatever it is, hold it dear, for when you lose it you go over by that much to the others. You begin to cease to be.”
 * Chapter 5
 * “Everybody who says the same words is the same person if the spectra are the same only they happen differently in time, you dig? But the time is arbitrary. You pick your zero point anywhere you want, that way you can shuffle each person’s time line sideways till they all coincide.
 * Chapter 5, Mucho Maas
 * She might have found the Tristero anywhere in her Republic, through any of a hundred lightly-concealed entranceways, a hundred alienations, if only she'd looked. She stopped for a minute between the steel rails, raising her head as if to sniff the air. Becoming conscious of the hard, strung presence she stood on — knowing as if maps had been flashed for her on the sky how these tracks ran on into others, others, knowing they laced, deepened, authenticated the great night around her. If only she'd looked. … She remembered drifters she had listened to, Americans speaking their language carefully, scholarly, as if they were in exile from somewhere else invisible yet congruent with the land she lived in; and walkers along the roads at night, zooming in and out of your headlights without looking up, too far from any town to have a real destination. And the voices before and after the dead man's that had phoned at random during the darkest slowest hours, searching ceaseless among the dial's ten million possibilities for that magical Other who would reveal herself out of the roar of relays monotone litanies of insult, filth, fantasy love, whose brute repetition must someday call into being the trigger of the unnamable act, the recognition, the Word.
 * Chapter 6
 * Who knew? Perhaps she'd be hounded someday as far as joining Tristero itself, if it existed, in its twilight, its aloofness, its waiting. The waiting above all; if not for another set of possibilities to replace those that had conditioned the land to accept any San Narciso among its most tender flesh without a reflex or cry, then at least, at very least, waiting for a symmetry of choices to break down, to go skew. She had heard all about excluded middles; they were bad shit, to be avoided; and how had it ever happened here, with the chances once so good for diversity? For it was now like walking among matrices of a great digital computer, the zeroes and ones twinned above, hanging like balanced mobiles right and left, ahead, thick, maybe endless. Behind the hieroglyphic streets there would either be a transcendent meaning, or only the earth. In the songs Miles, Dean, Serge and Leonard sang was either some fraction of the truth's numinous beauty (as Mucho now believed) or only a power spectrum.
 * Chapter 6

 * Write by WASTE. The government will open it if you use the other. The dolphins will be mad. Love the dolphins.

 * This is America, you live in it, you let it happen. Let it unfurl.

 * The illustrations were woodcuts, executed with that crude haste to see the finished product that marks the amateur. True pornography is given us by vastly patient professionals.

 * Death glided by, shadowless, among the empties on the grass.

 * "Whenever I put the headsets on now," he'd continued, "I really do understand what I find there. When those kids sing about 'She loves you,' yeah, well, you know, she does, she's any number of people, all over the world, back through time, different colors, shapes, sizes, distances from death, but she loves. And the 'you' is everybody. And herself."

Gravity's Rainbow (1973)

 * A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now. It is too late. The Evacuation still proceeds, but it's all theatre. There are no lights inside the cars. No light anywhere. Above him lift girders old as an iron queen, and glass somewhere far above that would let the light of day through. But it's night. He's afraid of the way the glass will fall soon it will be a spectacle: the fall of a crystal palace. But coming down in total blackout, without one glint of light, only great invisible crashing.
 * First lines

 * Flotsam from his childhood are rising through his attention. He's remembering the skin of an apple, bursting with nebulae, a look into curved reddening space.

 * The night room heaves a sigh, yes Heaves, a Sigh — old-fashioned comical room, oh me I'm hopeless, born a joker never change, flirting away through the mirrorframe in something green-striped, pantalooned, and ruffled — meantime though, it is quaint, most rooms today hum you know, have been known also to "breathe," yes even wait in hushed expectancy and that ought to be the rather sinister tradition here, long slender creatures, heavy perfume and capes in rooms assailed by midnight, pierced with spiral stairways, blue-petaled pergolas, an ambience in which no one, however provoked or out of touch, my dear young lady, ever, Heaves, a Sigh. It is not done.

 * Colonies are the outhouses of the European soul, where a fellow can let his pants down and relax, enjoy the smell of his own shit. Where he can fall on his slender prey roaring as loud as he feels like, and guzzle her blood with open joy. Eh? Where he can just wallow and rut and let himself go in a softness, a receptive darkness of limbs, of hair as woolly as the hair on his own forbidden genitals.

 * Out and down in the colonies, life can be indulged, life and sensuality in all its forms, with no harm done to the Metropolis, nothing to soil those cathedrals, white marble statues, noble thoughts.

 * Tibet is a special case. Tibet was deliberately set aside by the Empire as free and neutral territory, a Switzerland for the spirit where there is no extradition, and Alp-Himalayas to draw the soul upward, and danger rare enough to tolerate.

 * Now there grows among all the rooms, replacing the night's old smoke, alcohol and sweat, the fragile, musaceous odor of Breakfast: flowery, permeating, surprising, more than the color of winter sunlight, taking over not so much through any brute pungency or volume as by the high intricacy to the weaving of its molecules, sharing the conjuror's secret by which — though it is not often that Death is told so clearly to fuck off — the living genetic chains prove even labyrinthine enough to preserve some human face down twenty generations... so the same assertion-through-structure allows this war morning's banana fragrance to meander, repossess, prevail.

 * They are in love. Fuck the war.

 * It's been a prevalent notion. Fallen sparks. Fragments of vessels broken at the Creation. And someday, somehow, before the end, a gathering back to home. A messenger from the Kingdom, arriving at the last moment. But I tell you there is no such message, no such home — only the millions of last moments... nothing more. Our history is an aggregate of last moments.

 * She has turned her face, more than once, to the Outer Radiance and simply seen nothing there. And so each time taken a little more of the Zero into herself. It comes down to courage, at worst an amount of self-deluding that's vanishingly small: he has to admire it, even if he can't accept her glassy wastes, her appeals to a day not of wrath but of final indifference....

 * It is a curve each of them feels, unmistakably. It is the parabola. They must have guessed, once or twice — guessed and refused to believe — that everything, always, collectively, had been moving toward that purified shape latent in the sky, that shape of no surprise, no second chance, no return. Yet they do move forever under it, reserved for its own black-and-white bad news certainly as if it were the rainbow, and they its children....

 * Out at the horizon, out near the burnished edge of the world, who are these visitors standing... these robed figures —  perhaps, at this distance, hundreds of miles tall — their faces, serene, unattached, like the Buddha's, bending over the sea, impassive, indeed, as the Angel that stood over Lübeck during the Palm Sunday raid, come that day neither to destroy nor to protect, but to bear witness to a game of seduction... What have the watchmen of the world's edge come tonight to look for? Deepening on now, monumental beings stoical, on toward slag, toward ash the colour the night will stabilize at, tonight... what is there grandiose enough to witness?

 * He lies on top of her, sweating, taking great breaths, watching her face turned 3/4 away, not even a profile, but the terrible Face That is No Face, gone too abstract, unreachable: the notch of the eye socket, but never the labile eye, only the anonymous curve of cheek, convexity of mouth, a noseless mask of the Other Order of Being, of Katje's being — the lifeless non-face that is the only face of hers he really knows, or will ever remember.

 * Proverbs for Paranoids:
 * 1) You may never get to touch the Master, but you can tickle his creatures.
 * 2) The innocence of the creatures is in inverse proportion to the immorality of the Master.
 * 3) If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don't have to worry about answers.
 * 4) You hide, they seek.
 * 5) Paranoids are not paranoid because they're paranoid, but because they keep putting themselves, fucking idiots, deliberately into paranoid situations.

 * There was no difference between the behavior of a god and the operations of pure chance.

 * The man's thirst for guilt was insatiable as the desert's for water.

 * It's a Rocket-raising: a festival new to this country. Soon it will come to the folk-attention how close Wernher von Braun's birthday is to the Spring Equinox, and the same German impulse that once rolled flower-boats through the towns and staged mock battles between young Spring and deathwhite old Winter will be erecting strange floral towers out in the clearings and meadows, and the young scientist-surrogate will be going round and round with Gravity or some such buffoon, and the children will be tickled, and laugh....

 * Kekulé dreams the Great Serpent holding its own tail in its mouth, the dreaming Serpent which surrounds the World. But the meanness, the cynicism with which this dream is to be used. The Serpent that announces, "The World is a closed thing, cyclical, resonant, eternally-returning," is to be delivered into a system whose only aim is to violate the Cycle. Taking and not giving back, demanding that "productivity" and "earnings" keep on increasing with time, the System removing from the rest of the World these vast quantities of energy to keep its own tiny desperate fraction showing a profit: and not only most of humanity — most of the World, animal, vegetable, and mineral, is laid waste in the process. The System may or may not understand that it's only buying time. And that time is an artificial resource to being with, of no value to anyone or anything but the System, which must sooner or later crash to its death, when its addiction to energy has become more than the rest of the World can supply, dragging with it innocent souls all along the chain of life.

 * "Who has sent this new serpent into our ruinous garden, already too fouled, too crowded to qualify as any locus of innocence — unless innocence be our age's neutral, our silent passing into the machineries of indifference — something that Kekulé's Serpent had come to — not to destroy, but to define to us the loss of... we had been given certain molecules, certain combinations and not others... we used what we found in Nature, unquestioning, shamefully perhaps — but the Serpent whispered, 'They can be changed, and new molecules assembled from the debris of the given.... ' Can anyone tell me what else he whispered to us? Come — who knows?"

 * "Personal density," Kurt Mondaugen in his Peenemünde office not too many steps away from here, enunciating the Law which will one day bear his name, "is directly proportional to temporal bandwidth."  "Temporal bandwidth," is the width of your present, your now. It is the familiar "∆ t" considered as a dependent variable. The more you dwell in the past and in the future, the thicker your bandwidth, the more solid your persona. But the narrower your sense of Now, the more tenuous you are.

 * She watches Marvy's face as he pays Monika, watches him in this primal American act, paying, more deeply himself than when coming, or asleep, or maybe even dying.

 * Those must have all been important to me once. What I am now grew from that. A former self is a fool, an insufferable ass, but he's still human, you'd no more turn him out than you'd turn out any kind of cripple, would you?

 * It's a giant factory-state here, a City of the Future full of extrapolated 1930's swoop-facaded and balconied skyscrapers, lean chrome caryatids with bobbed hairdos, classy airships of all descriptions drifting in the boom and hush of the city abysses, golden lovelies sunning in roof gardens and turning to wave as you pass.

 * It can get pretty fascist in here...

 * M-maybe there is a Machine to take us away, take us completely, suck us through the electrodes out of the skull 'n' into the Machine and live there forever with all the other souls it's got stored there. It could decide who it would suck out, a-and when. Dope never gave you immortality. You hadda come back, every time, into a dying hunk of smelly meat! But We can live forever, in a clean, honest, purified, Electroworld —

 * What are the stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?

 *  "I want to break out — to leave this cycle of infection and death. I want to be taken in love: so taken that you and I, and death, and life, will be gathered inseparable, into the radiance of what we would become.... "

 * Each will have his personal Rocket.

 * This ascent will be betrayed to Gravity. But the Rocket engine, the deep cry of combustion that jars the soul, promises escape. The victim, in bondage to falling, rises on a promise, a prophecy, of Escape....  Moving now toward the kind of light where at last the apple is apple-colored. The knife cuts through the apple like a knife cutting an apple. Everything is where it is, no clearer than usual, but certainly more present. So much has to be left behind now, so quickly.

 *  "The edge of evening … the long curve of people all wishing on the first star.... Always remember those men and women along the thousands of miles of land and sea. The true moment of shadow is the moment in which you see the point of light in the sky. The single point, and the Shadow that has just gathered you in its sweep ..." Always remember. The first star hangs between his feet. Now —

 * Non-Masons stay pretty much in the dark about What Goes On, though now and then something jumps out, exposes itself, jumps giggling back again, leaving you with few details but a lot of Awful Suspicions.

... "Look," Slothrop's friend producing a kraft-paper envelope that even in the gloom Slothrop can tell is fat with American Army yellow-seal scrip, "I want you to hold this for me, till I ask for it back. It looks like Italo is going to get here before Tamara, and I'm not sure which one" "At this rate, Tamara's gonna get here before tonight," Slothrop interjects in a Groucho Marx voice. "Don't try to undermine my confidence in you," advises the Large One. "You're the man."
 * "You." A finger the size of a corncob, an inch from Slothrop's nose.

 * No, as none of these, but instead a point in space, a point hung precise as the point where burning must end, never launched, never to fall. And what is the specific shape whose center of gravity is the Brennschluss Point? Don't jump at an infinite number of possible shapes. There's only one. It is most likely an interface between one order of things and another. There's a Brennschluss point for every firing site. They still hang up there, all of them, a constellation waiting to have a 13th sign of the Zodiac named for it...

 * A million bureaucrats are diligently plotting death and some of them even know it.

Vineland (1990)

 * LATER than usual one summer morning in 1984, Zoyd Wheeler drifted awake in sunlight through a creeping fig that hung in the window, with a squadron of blue jays stomping around on the roof. In his dream these had been carrier pigeons from someplace far across the ocean, landing and taking off again one by one, each bearing a message for him, but none of whom, light pulsing in their wings, he could ever quite get to in time. He understood it to be another deep nudge from forces unseen, almost surely connected with the letter that had come along with his latest mental-disability check, reminding him that unless he did something publicly crazy before a date now less than a week away, he would no longer qualify for benefits. He groaned out of bed.
 * First lines

Mason & Dixon (1997)

 * Snow-Balls have flown their Arcs, starr'd the Sides of Outbuildings, as of Cousins, carried Hats away into the brisk Wind off Delaware, — the Sleds are brought in and their Runners carefully dried and greased, shoes deposited in the back Hall, a stocking'd foot Descent made upon the great Kitchen, in a purposeful Dither since Morning, punctuated by the ringing Lids of various Boilers and Stewing-Pots, fragrant with Pie-Spices, peel'd Fruits, Suet, heated Sugar, — the Children, having all upon the Fly, among rhythmic slaps of Batter and Spoon, coax'd and stolen what they might, proceed, as upon each afternoon all this snowy Advent, to a comfortable Room at the rear of the House, years since given over to their carefree Assaults.
 * First lines

 * Facts are but the Play-things of lawyers, — Tops and Hoops, forever a-spin… Alas the Historian may indulge no such idle Rotating. History is not Chronology, for that is left to lawyers, — nor is it Remembrance, for Remembrance belongs to the People. History can as little pretend to the Veracity of the one, as claim the Power of the other, — her Practitioners, to survive, must soon learn the arts of the quidnunc, spy, and Taproom Wit, — that there may ever continue more than one life-line back into a Past we risk, each day, losing our forebears in forever, — not a Chain of single Links, for one broken Link could lose us All, — rather, a great disorderly Tangle of Lines, long and short, weak and strong, vanishing into the Mnemonick Deep, with only their Destination in Common.
 * — The Revd Wicks Cherrycoke, Christ and History
 * Ch. 35

 * Who claims Truth, Truth abandons. History is hir'd, or coerc'd, only in Interests that must ever prove base. She is too innocent, to be left within the reach of anyone in Power, — who need but touch her, and all her Credit is in the instant vanish'd, as if it had never been. She needs rather to be tended lovingly and honorably by fabulists and counterfeiters, Ballad-Mongers and Cranks of ev'ry Radius, Masters of Disguise to provide her the Costume, Toilette, and Bearing, and Speech nimble enough to keep her beyond the Desires, or even the Curiosity, of Government.
 * Ch. 35

 * If America was a person, — and it sat down, — Lancaster town would be plunged into a Darkness unbreathable.
 * Chapter 66

 * "Arrh! Stars and Mud, ever conjugate, a Paradox to consider, — one…for the Astronomer-Royal, perhaps?" His current scheme being, to assail Maskelyne's Sanity, by now and then posing to him Questions that will not bear too much cogitating upon, — most lately, Über Bernouillis Brachistochronsprobleme, 1702 by Baron von Boppdörfer ("Mind like a Spanish Blade. Read it at the Risk of your Self-Esteem.") having almost done the Trick.
 * Chapter 74

 * What, a Re-Peat!
 * Chapter 74

 * No need to feel pleas'd with yourself. What you found was not their sacred Well, but only a Representation of it.
 * Chapter 74

 * Now, nothing in the Sky looks the same. "As to the Comet, — I cannot account for how, — but there came this night, to this boggy Miasmatick place, an exceptional Clarity of the Air, … a sort of optickal Tension among the Stars, that seem'd ever just about to break radiantly thro'… And there. In Leo, bright-man'd, lo, it came. It came ahead. And 'twould be but Prelude to the Finger of Corsica, — which now appear'd, pointing down from Heaven. And the place where it pointed was the place I knew I must journey to, for beneath the Sky-borne Index lay, as once beneath a Star, an Infant that must, again, re-make the World, — this time 'twas a Sign from Earth, not only from Heaven, showing the way.
 * Chapter 74

 * Have you ever fall'n into one of those Cometary Dazes, with the way the Object grows brighter and brighter each night? These Apparitions in the Sky, we never observe them but in Motion, — gone in seconds, and if they return, we do not see them. Once safely a part of the Night Sky, they may hang there at their Pleasure, performing whatever their Work corresponds to shifting jibs and stay-sails, keeping perfectly upon Station, mimicking any faint, unnam'd Star you please. Do they watch us? Are they visits from the past, from an Age of Faith, when Miracles still literally happen'd?
 * Chapter 74

 * It is usually not wise to discuss matters of costume with people like this, — politics or religion being far safer topicks.
 * Chapter 74

 * At Bishop they learn'd that Dixon had been buried in back of the Quaker Meeting-House in Staindrop. Doctor Isaac stay'd with his Father, step for step. At the grave, which by Quaker custom was unmark'd, Mason beseech'd what dismally little he knew of God, to help Dixon through. The grass was long and beaded with earlier rain. A Cat emerg'd from it and star'd for a long time, appearing to know them. "Dad?" Doc had taken his arm. For an instant, unexpectedly, Mason saw the little Boy who, having worried about Storms at Sea, as Beasts in the Forest, came running each time to make sure his father had return'd safely, — whose gift of ministering to others Mason was never able to see, let alone accept, in his blind grieving, his queasiness of Soul before a life and a death, his refusal to touch the Baby, tho' 'twas not possible to blame him.... The Boy he had gone to the other side of the Globe to avoid was looking at him now with nothing in his face but concern for his Father. "Oh, Son." He shook his Head. He didn't continue. "It's your Mate," Doctor Isaac assur'd him, "It's what happens when your Mate dies."

Against the Day (2006)

 * Merle's all-night illumination prolonged itself into an inescapable glow that began to keep him awake.
 * p. 65

 * It was impossible to get a decent meal, or even snack, anywhere, burned flapjacks and vulcanized steaks being as appetizing as things got. It also quickly became evident — horribly evident — that no one in the city knew how to make coffee, as if there were some sort of stultified consensus, or even city ordinance, about never waking up.
 * p. 66

 * "If the U.S. was a person," he later became fond of saying, "and it sat down, Columbus, Ohio would instantly be plunged into darkness"
 * p. 66

 * All investigations of Time, however sophisticated or abstract, have at their true base the human fear of mortality.
 * p. 622

 * It went on for a month. Those who had taken it for a cosmic sign cringed beneath the sky each nightfall, imagining ever more extravagant disasters.  Others, for whom orange did not seem an appropriately apocalyptic shade, sat outdoors on public benches, reading calmly, growing used to the curious pallor. As nights went on and nothing happened and the phenomenon slowly faded to the accustomed deeper violets again, most had difficulty remembering the earlier rise of heart, the sense of overture and possibility and went back once again to seeking only orgasm, hallucination, stupor, sleep, to fetch them through the night and prepare them against the day.
 * p. 802

Inherent Vice (2009)

 * Charlie really has this, like, obsessive death wish! Yes! he, he wants to be caught, processed, put in a can, not just any can, you dig, it has to be StarKist! suicidal brand loyalty, man, deep parable of consumer capitalism, they won't be happy with anything less than drift-netting us all, chopping us up and stacking us on the shelves of Supermarket Amerika, and subconsciously the horrible thing is, is we want them to do it...
 * p. 119

 * It creeped him out, the way it just sat there looking so plastic and harmless among the old-time good intentions of all that downtown architecture, no more sinister than a chain motel by the freeway, and yet behind its neutral drapes and far away down its fluorescent corridors it was swarming with all this strange alternate cop history and cop politics—cop dynasties, cop heroes and evildoers, saintly cops and psycho cops, cops too stupid to live and cops too smart for their own good—insulated by secret loyalties and codes of silence from the world they'd all be given to control, or, as they liked to put it, protect and serve.
 * p. 137

 * I apologize if I've interrupted some exceptionally demanding hippie task, like trying to remember where the glue is on the Zig-Zag paper, but it seems we have yet another problem, not unconnected with this fatality of yours for introducing disaster into every life you touch, however glancingly.
 * p. 203

 * Everybody here drove around like a dedicated loser, expecting moment to moment to get into an accident. Doc could relate to this — it was like the beach, where you lived in a climate of unquestioning hippie belief, pretending to trust everybody while always expecting to be sold out — but he didn't have to enjoy that either, especially.
 * p. 225

Bleeding Edge (2013)

 * Paranoia's the garlic in life's kitchen, right, you can never have too much.
 * p. 11

Quotes about Pynchon

 * [Johns] Hopkins had this very postmodernist slant. You couldn't help but be really influenced by this emphasis on the text, on experimental texts. People were fascinated with Robert Coover and Thomas Pynchon, and John Barth was there, and the focus was on that, which I found very helpful.
 * 1986 interview in Conversations with Louise Erdrich and Michael Dorris edited by Allan Chavkin and Nancy Feyl Chavkin (1994)

 * Thomas Pynchon is an enigma shrouded in a mystery veiled in anonymity. … He so shuns publicity that he doesn't allow his likeness to be used on book jackets. All known photographs of the man date to the early 1950s. … Some of his fans wonder if he really exists or might really be several people writing under a pseudonym. … He has proven himself willing to step out of the shadows from time to time — but on his own terms.
 * "Where's Thomas Pynchon?", by Charles Feldman, CNN (5 June 1997)

 * Pynchon is … the only contemporary author whose novels can be compared to James Joyce's with a straight face. … Whatever meanings and complex messages may lie hidden in Pynchon's text can, for now, be left to develop subconsciously as the reader enjoys the more immediate rewards of the work of a consummate storyteller. Pynchon is one, and he never quite lets you forget that while this might be an epic story, it's an epic story told to wide-eyed children who are up past their bedtime.
 * John Krewson, in his review of Mason & Dixon at the A.V. Club (29 March 2002)

title: Thomas Pynchon


text:
User talk:222.152.27.82

Welcome to Wikiquote, the free compendium of quotations! You don't have to log in to read or edit articles on Wikiquote, but creating an account is quick, free and non-intrusive, requires you to provide no personal information, and gives you many benefits, including:
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title: User talk:222.152.27.82


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Talk:Eugène Ionesco

Should we move it to Eugène Ionesco or not? --Aphaia 08:05, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

title: Talk:Eugène Ionesco


text:
User talk:Moink~enwikiquote

Hi,, welcome back to Wikiquote ;-) Here are some useful links:
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Shortly be bold and enjoy!

As for "purpose and end" I doubt it was said by other people, like Machavelli too. When I have a time, I would like to make a research for it. Cheers, --Aphaia 08:32, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

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User talk:Ishan~enwikiquote

--Aphaia 10:33, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

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User:Datch~enwikiquote

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User talk:Datch~enwikiquote

By the way, if I may ask, are you the same person with User:Datch on meta? Happy editing, --Aphaia 13:57, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

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User talk:Shattten

--Aphaia 13:58, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

title: User talk:Shattten


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User talk:62.254.32.17

Thank you for your submission & Welcome to Wikiquote, the free compendium of quotations! You don't have to log in to read or edit articles on Wikiquote, but creating an account is quick, free and non-intrusive, requires you to provide no personal information, and gives you many benefits, including:
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title: User talk:62.254.32.17


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Scott McNealy

Scott McNealy (born 13 November 1954) was the chairman of Sun Microsystems, the computer technology company he co-founded in 1982.

Quotes

 * Ballmer and Butt-Head
 * "Javaman: The Adventures of Scott McNealy," Fortune magazine, October 13 1997; quoted in "It's Good to Be the Boss," Fortune, September 19, 2005
 * On Microsoft CEO Steve Ballmer and chairman Bill Gates
 * [...] the only thing I'd rather own than [Microsoft] Windows is English or Chinese or Spanish, because then I could charge a $249 right to speak English. And I could charge you an upgrade fee when I add new letters like N and T.
 * Testimony before U.S. Senate Judiciary Committee meeting on market power and structural change in the software industry, 1998-03-03 (transcript at CNN.com)

 * You have zero privacy anyway. Get over it.

 * What we offer is good enough. It's like my haircut: It ain't pretty, but it's good enough.

 * In a world without fences, who needs Gates?

 * I am very liberal on social issues, but I don’t believe we can have personal liberty, which is what that means, without having economic liberty. We have economic tyranny when you add in Obamacare, we have about 50 percent of the U.S. GDP in the public sector. That means that you have a tyrannical and overregulating, and politicized economy, not a market economy, not the invisible hand.
 * In: Why Sun Co-Founder Scott McNealy Supports The Romney-Ryan Ticket
 * [Tech] is unstoppable. We're getting more tech in our lives every day as we go to VR or AR and all of the machine learning and artificial intelligence and all the rest of it.
 * CNBC: "Silicon Valley pioneer Scott McNealy: Tech is 'unstoppable' and part of our lives more than ever" (9 February 2018)

 * Open source is free like a puppy is free.

Quotes about McNealy

 * During his years at the helm, McNealy grew Sun from a Silicon Valley start-up to a leading provider of network computing infrastructure with thousands of employees worldwide.
 * Bruce Haring in BlockTribune: "Crypto Miner TMGcore Adds Sun Microsystems Co-Founder Scott McNealy As Advisor" (12 July 2018)

title: Scott McNealy


text:
Karen Horney

Karen Horney (16 September 1885 – 4 December 1952) was a German-born U.S. psychoanalyst.

Quotes

 * [The neurotic] feels caught in a cellar with many doors, and whichever door he opens leads only into new darkness. And all the time he knows that others are walking outside in sunshine.  I do not believe that one can understand any severe neurosis without recognizing the paralyzing hopelessness which it contains. … It may be difficult then to see that behind all the odd vanities, demands, hostilities, there is a human being who suffers, who feels forever excluded from all that makes life desirable, who knows that even if he gets what he wants he cannot enjoy it.  When one recognizes the existence of all this hopelessness it should not be difficult to understand what appears to be an excessive aggressiveness or even meanness, unexplainable by the particular situation.  A person so shut out from every possibility of happiness would have to be a veritable angel if he did not feel hatred toward a world he cannot belong to.
 * The Neurotic Personality of Our Time (1937), pp. 227–228

 * Taking again as an example the need to appear perfect, I would be interested primarily in understanding what this trend accomplishes for the individual (eliminating conflicts with others and making him feel superior to others), and also what consequences the trend has on his character and his life. The latter investigation would make it possible to understand, for example, how such a person anxiously conforms with expectations and standards to the extent of becoming a mere automaton, and yet subversively defies them; how this double play results in listlessness and inertia; how he is proud of his apparent independence, yet actually is entirely dependent on the expectations and opinions of others; how he is terrified lest anyone should discover the flimsiness of his moral strivings and the duplicity which has pervaded his life; how this in turn has made him seclusive and hypersensitive to criticism.
 * New Ways in Psychoanalysis (1939) pp. 281

 * Fortunately analysis is not the only way to resolve inner conflicts. Life itself still remains a very effective therapist... The therapy effected by life itself is not, however, within one's control. Neither hardships nor friendships nor religious experience can be arranged to meet the needs of the particular individual. Life as a therapist is ruthless; circumstances that are helpful to one neurotic may entirely crush another.
 * Karen Horney Our Inner Conflicts (1945)

 * Rationalization may be defined as self-deception by reasoning.
 * Our Inner Conflicts (1945)

 * It is amazing how obtuse otherwise intelligent patients can become when it is a matter of seeing the inevitability of cause and effect in psychic matters. I am thinking of rather self-evident connections such as these: if we want to achieve something, we must put in work; if we want to become independent, we must strive toward assuming responsibility for ourselves. Or: so long as we are arrogant, we will be vulnerable. Or: so long as we do not love ourselves, we cannot possibly believe that others love us, and must by necessity be suspicious toward any assertion of love. Patients presented with such sequences of cause and effect may start to argue, to become befogged or evasive.
 * Neurosis and Human Growth (1950), Chapter 2, Neurotic Claims

Quotes about Karen Horney

 * "Through the eclipse of large areas of the self," says Karen Horney in Our Inner Conflicts, "by repression and inhibition as well as by idealization and externalization, the individual loses sight of himself; he feels, if he does not actually become, like a shadow without weight and substance."
 * Muriel Rukeyser The Life of Poetry (1949)

title: Karen Horney


text:
User talk:JB82

Hi,, welcome back to Wikiquote ;-) Here are some useful links:
 * Browse To browse the site.
 * Reference desk To ask some questions related to quotes.
 * Village pump To discuss with other editors.
 * Community Portal Other useful links.

Shortly be bold and enjoy! By the way would you like to request for adminship here? Our project is nw rapidly growing and we need much more good experienced editors. -Aphaia 22:00, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

title: User talk:JB82


text: Template:Sandbox

title: Template:Sandbox


text:
Talk:Ron Reagan

I really don't know about this Ron Reagan dude. He's got a lot to say, but it feels like a lot of "me too" hot air. Or maybe it's "look at me! I'm not my father!  I'm not a chip off the old block, and I will never let you forget it!"

title: Talk:Ron Reagan


text:
User talk:12.240.2.236

jni 05:54, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

title: User talk:12.240.2.236


text:
Template:Test2

Please stop making unconstructive changes to Wikiquote. It is considered vandalism. If you want to experiment, please use the sandbox. Wikiquote exists for the collecting of notable quotations from people and works. For a quick overview of what Wikiquote is, read Wikiquote, and also What Wikiquote is not for a list of common activities that Wikiquote does not support. When people are not interested in responsibly contributing to the development of the project incidents of their deliberate vandalism can result in their usernames or IP addresses being blocked from editing. Thank you.

title: Template:Test2


text:
Template:Test3

Please stop. If you continue to vandalize pages, add nonsense pages, or pages for nonnotable subjects, you may be blocked from editing Wikiquote.

title: Template:Test3


text:
User talk:Bacteria~enwikiquote

--Aphaia 08:13, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

Your account will be renamed
Hello,

The developer team at Wikimedia is making some changes to how accounts work, as part of our on-going efforts to provide new and better tools for our users like cross-wiki notifications. These changes will mean you have the same account name everywhere. This will let us give you new features that will help you edit and discuss better, and allow more flexible user permissions for tools. One of the side-effects of this is that user accounts will now have to be unique across all 900 Wikimedia wikis. See the announcement for more information.

Unfortunately, your account clashes with another account also called Bacteria. To make sure that both of you can use all Wikimedia projects in future, we have reserved the name Bacteria~enwikiquote that only you will have. If you like it, you don't have to do anything. If you do not like it, you can pick out a different name.

Your account will still work as before, and you will be credited for all your edits made so far, but you will have to use the new account name when you log in.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Yours, Keegan Peterzell Community Liaison, Wikimedia Foundation 23:17, 17 March 2015 (UTC)

Renamed
 This account has been renamed as part of single-user login finalisation. If you own this account you can |log in using your previous username and password for more information. If you do not like this account's new name, you can choose your own using this form after logging in: . -- Keegan (WMF) (talk) 05:42, 19 April 2015 (UTC)

title: User talk:Bacteria~enwikiquote


text:
User talk:200.241.111.72

Welcome to Wikiquote, the free compendium of quotations! You don't have to log in to read or edit articles on Wikiquote, but creating an account is quick, free and non-intrusive, requires you to provide no personal information, and gives you many benefits, including:
 * The use of a username of your choice
 * The ability to view all your contributions via a "My contributions" link
 * Your own user page
 * Your own talk page which, if you choose, also allows users to send you messages without knowing your e-mail address
 * The use of your own personal watchlist to which you can add articles that interest you
 * The ability to rename pages
 * The ability to upload images
 * The ability to customize the appearance and behavior of the website
 * The eligibility to become an administrator
 * The right to be heard in formal votes and elections, and on pages like votes for deletion

Click here to create an account.--Aphaia 08:25, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

title: User talk:200.241.111.72


text:
Talk:Old age

I found this quote here. This is better to be attributed as Afro-American proverbs rather than anonymous, I doubt. Any opinion? --Aphaia 09:08, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

title: Talk:Old age


text:
Zork: Grand Inquisitor

Zork: Grand Inquisitor is a 360-degree point-and-click videogame from Activision.

Dialogue

 * Man on PA: In a hypothetical universe of purely good things and bad things, totemization would be near the bottom of the list of desirable things.

 * Dalboz of Gurth, the Dungeon Master: I shall call you ageless, faceless, gender-neutral, culturally ambiguous, adventurer person. AFGNCAAP for short.

 * Dalboz of Gurth, the Dungeon Master: Your sword is blowing glue. Wait, let me try that again, your sword is glowing blue

title: Zork: Grand Inquisitor


text:
User talk:Eleassar777

--Aphaia 09:38, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

title: User talk:Eleassar777


text:
User talk:QuirkyAndSuch~enwikiquote

--Aphaia 09:49, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

Your account will be renamed
Hello,

The developer team at Wikimedia is making some changes to how accounts work, as part of our on-going efforts to provide new and better tools for our users like cross-wiki notifications. These changes will mean you have the same account name everywhere. This will let us give you new features that will help you edit and discuss better, and allow more flexible user permissions for tools. One of the side-effects of this is that user accounts will now have to be unique across all 900 Wikimedia wikis. See the announcement for more information.

Unfortunately, your account clashes with another account also called QuirkyAndSuch. To make sure that both of you can use all Wikimedia projects in future, we have reserved the name QuirkyAndSuch~enwikiquote that only you will have. If you like it, you don't have to do anything. If you do not like it, you can pick out a different name.

Your account will still work as before, and you will be credited for all your edits made so far, but you will have to use the new account name when you log in.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Yours, Keegan Peterzell Community Liaison, Wikimedia Foundation 23:32, 17 March 2015 (UTC)

Renamed
 This account has been renamed as part of single-user login finalisation. If you own this account you can |log in using your previous username and password for more information. If you do not like this account's new name, you can choose your own using this form after logging in: . -- Keegan (WMF) (talk) 05:54, 19 April 2015 (UTC)

title: User talk:QuirkyAndSuch~enwikiquote


text:
User talk:194.211.118.3

Thanks for experimenting with Wikiquote. Your test worked, and has now been reverted or removed. Please use Sandbox for any other tests you want to do, since testing in articles will normally be reverted quickly. Please see the welcome page if you would like to learn more about contributing to our compendium of quotations. Thanks.

--Aphaia 09:55, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

title: User talk:194.211.118.3


text:
User:Mounir~enwikiquote

O Lord, nourish me not with love but with the desire for love.

(Ibn Arabi)

 * Wikipedia
 * German Wikiquote

title: User:Mounir~enwikiquote


text:
User:Mystique~enwikiquote

About Me
Hi, I'm Mystique. I'm a 20 year old female from Australia.

Upcoming Wikiquote Changes I Plan To Make

 * Invader Zim - I want to change the layout of this page so that there are headings for each episode and the quotes relating to each episode are directly under them. As in Sam and Max.
 * Duckman - I am yet to watch this television series, but when I do I will add the quotes I think are suitable. I may also play through the Duckman computer game again, so that I can also included some of the quotes found in that.

Wikiquote Articles I Have Edited

 * Sam and Max
 * User:Mystique

My Web Pages

 * My Wikiquote Talk Page - Feel free to leave me a message.
 * User:Mystique
 * My Wikipedia Page
 * My Online Blog
 * My Website

My Most Visited Web Sites

 * TV.com - Episode guides and other television series information.
 * Penny Arcade - An online comic.
 * eBroadcast - TV guide.
 * Manual of Style

title: User:Mystique~enwikiquote


text:
Talk:William Congreve

Hello Mr congreve. My name is Sam, I'm studying your play The Way of The World at present. I must admitt I've enjoyed the play very much, and I think you are a genius. You also have very splendid white curly hair. I wish I could meet you one day, but obviously this could be difficult because you are dead. However i do believe in after life, so we could one day meet and be friends, or even something more.

Yours sincerely, Sam xxxxx

title: Talk:William Congreve


text:
User:Limecat

This user is blocked in behalf of project by Aphaia due to moving vandalism.

--Aphaia 13:44, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

title: User:Limecat


text: User:Diderot~enwikiquote

title: User:Diderot~enwikiquote


text:
User talk:Diderot~enwikiquote

Hi,, welcome back to Wikiquote ;-) Here are some useful links:
 * Browse To browse the site.
 * Reference desk To ask some questions related to quotes.
 * Village pump To discuss with other editors.
 * Community Portal Other useful links.

Shortly be bold and enjoy! Thank you for your edit and feedback on Talk:Ron Karenga. I agree with you. You did a good work,  please keep it up. --Aphaia 14:32, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

Your account will be renamed
Hello,

The developer team at Wikimedia is making some changes to how accounts work, as part of our on-going efforts to provide new and better tools for our users like cross-wiki notifications. These changes will mean you have the same account name everywhere. This will let us give you new features that will help you edit and discuss better, and allow more flexible user permissions for tools. One of the side-effects of this is that user accounts will now have to be unique across all 900 Wikimedia wikis. See the announcement for more information.

Unfortunately, your account clashes with another account also called Diderot. To make sure that both of you can use all Wikimedia projects in future, we have reserved the name Diderot~enwikiquote that only you will have. If you like it, you don't have to do anything. If you do not like it, you can pick out a different name.

Your account will still work as before, and you will be credited for all your edits made so far, but you will have to use the new account name when you log in.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Yours, Keegan Peterzell Community Liaison, Wikimedia Foundation 23:21, 17 March 2015 (UTC)

Renamed
 This account has been renamed as part of single-user login finalisation. If you own this account you can |log in using your previous username and password for more information. If you do not like this account's new name, you can choose your own using this form after logging in: . -- Keegan (WMF) (talk) 05:46, 19 April 2015 (UTC)

title: User talk:Diderot~enwikiquote


text:
User talk:204.38.173.234

Thanks for experimenting with Wikiquote. Your test worked, and has now been reverted or removed. Please use Sandbox for any other tests you want to do, since testing in articles will normally be reverted quickly. Please see the welcome page if you would like to learn more about contributing to our compendium of quotations. Thanks.

--Aphaia 15:16, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

title: User talk:204.38.173.234


text:
George Lucas

George Walton Lucas Jr. (born 14 May 1944) is American film producer, screenwriter, director, and entrepreneur, most famous for the Star Wars and Indiana Jones trilogies.

1970s

 * My primary concept in approaching the production of THX 1138 was to make a kind of cinema verité film of the future — something that would look like a documentary crew had made a film about some character in a time yet to come. No film ever ends up exactly as you would like it to, but with minor exceptions, THX came out pretty much as I had visualized it, thanks to some excellent assistance — and a whole lot of luck.
 * American Cinematographer (October 1971)

 * He could have known this little girl when she was just a kid. Had an affair with her when she was eleven. … He hasn’t seen her in twelve years. Now she’s twenty-two. It’s a real strange relationship. …This is a resource that you can either mine or not. It's not as blatant as we're talking about. You don't think about it that much. You don't immediately realize how old she was at the time. It would be subtle. She could talk about it. "I was jail bait the last time we were together." She can flaunt it at him, but at the same time she never says, "I was fifteen years old." Even if we don't mention it, when we go to cast the part we're going to end up with a woman who's about twenty-three and a hero who's about thirty- five.
 * Comments while developing the character Indiana Jones, in "Raiders of the Lost Ark Story Conference Transcript" (23 January 1978 - 27 January 1978); also quoted in "Spitballing Indy" by Patrick Radden Keefe in The New Yorker (25 March 2013)

Interview with Judy Stone (1971)

 * Interview with Judy Stone in The San Francisco Chronicle (23 May 1971), later published in Eye on the World : Conversations with International Filmmakers (1997), and George Lucas: Interviews (1999) edited by Sally Kline

 * It was insane, I wish I had filmed it. It was like bringing an audience to the Mona Lisa and asking, 'Do you know why she is smiling?' 'Sorry Leonardo, you'll have to make some changes.' At least the audience understood that THX was not a love story set in the 25th century, which was the way Warners had planned to advertise it. Instead the company settled for 'Visit the future, where love is the ultimate crime.'
 * On a test audience screening of ''THX 1138

 * The Johnson film wasn't terrible. I just didn't agree with the politics. I'm not a fan of big government and propaganda films are distasteful.
 * On a United States Information Agency Film about President Lyndon Johnson's trip to Asia, which he worked on as an editor

 * We say, 'We think you are a talented, functioning person, and we are hiring you because of your abilities, and whatever you come up with, we're going to take.' If we make a mistake, it will be in picking the wrong person. What we're striving for is total freedom, where we can finance our pictures, make them our way, release them where we want them released and be completely free to express ourselves. That's very hard to do in the world of business. In this country, the only thing that speaks is money and you have to have the money in order to have the power to be free. So the danger is — in being as oppressive as the next guy to the people below you. We're going to do everything possible to avoid that pitfall. But if we fail, it's another saga in the history of man...
 * On how American Zoetrope functions

1980s

 * One of the fatal mistakes that almost every science-fiction film makes is that they spend so much time on the settings — you know, creating the environment — that they spend film time on it. And you don't have to spend too much film time to create an environment. What they're doing is showing off the amount of work that they generated, and it slows the pace of the film down. And the story is not the settings. The story is the stories, plot. You're always surprised with characters, I mean in film it's even more dramatic than it is in writing, because eventually you actually take a real person and stick them into that character. And that real person brings with him, or her, an enormous package of reality. I mean, Threepio is just a hunk of plastic, and without Tony Daniels in there it just isn't anything at all. In the first film we had maybe 20 colors to paint with, and this time we've had 40 colors to paint with. Well, that doesn't mean it's going to be a better painting. Special effects are just a tool, a means of telling a story. People have a tendency to confuse them as an end to themselves. A special effect without a story is a pretty boring thing.
 * Star Wars to Jedi: The Making of a Saga (1983)

 * Don't avoid the cliches — they are cliches because they work!
 * Comment at the Imagineering offices of Disney, on Star Tours simulators (1985), quoted in "The Imagineering Way: Ideas to Ignite your Creativity" (2003) by Marty Sklar

1990s

 * Sound is half the experience in seeing a film. That's why I have been bothered by the poor sound reproduction in many theaters and most homes.
 * "In the Action With 'Star Wars' Sound" in The New York Times (May 3, 1992)

 * Everybody has the choice of being a hero or not being a hero every day of their lives … and you can either help somebody, you can be compassionate toward people, you can treat some people with dignity — or not. And … one way you become a hero, and the other way … you’re part of the problem. And … it’s not a grand thing, you know; you don’t have to get into a giant laser-sword fight and blow up three spaceships to become a hero. I mean — it’s a very small thing that happens every day of your life.
 * Interview with Bill Moyers for The Mythology of Star Wars (1999)

2000s

 * There is no Episode VII...Not about Luke Skywalker, not about, you know, that group of people and that struggle to bring democracy back to the galaxy.
 * Minutes Overtime'': George Lucas (2005)

 * As you go through history, I didn't think it was going to get quite this close. So it's just one of those recurring things… I hope this doesn't come true in our country. Maybe the film will waken people to the situation. … When I wrote it [Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith], Iraq didn't exist… We were just funding Saddam Hussein and giving him weapons of mass destruction. We didn't think of him as an enemy at that time. We were going after Iran and using him as our surrogate, just as we were doing in Vietnam… The parallels between what we did in Vietnam and what we're doing in Iraq now are unbelievable… [In ancient Rome,] why did the senate after killing Caesar turn around and give the government to his nephew? Why did France after they got rid of the king and that whole system turn around and give it to Napoleon? It's the same thing with Germany and Hitler. … You sort of see these recurring themes where a democracy turns itself into a dictatorship, and it always seems to happen kind of in the same way, with the same kinds of issues, and threats from the outside, needing more control. A democratic body, a senate, not being able to function properly because everybody's squabbling, there's corruption.
 * "Star Wars Raises Questions On U.S. Policy" WBZTV CBS 4 Boston (2005)

 * One of the amazing things about 'Seven Samurai' is that there are a lot of characters. And considering you have so many, and they all have shaved heads, and you've got good guys and bad guys and peasants, you get to understand a lot of them without too much being said.
 * George Lucas, in Marc Lee Film-makers on film: George Lucas, The Telegraph, 14 May 2005

 * The truth is, the only thing I was inspired by was the fact that it's told from the point of view of two peasants, who get mixed up with a samurai and princess and a lot of very high-level people.
 * George Lucas, in Marc Lee "Film-makers on film: George Lucas"

 * Being in Washington is more fictional than being in Hollywood.
 * "Lucas in a D.C. daze" in Variety (20 February 2006)

 * The fans are all upset. They’re always going to be upset. Why did he do it like this? And why didn’t he do it like this? They write their own movie, and then, if you don’t do their movie, they get upset about it.
 * On Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, "Keys to the Kingdom" at Vanity Fair (2 January 2008)

 * No, I like my own characters. I want to get Anakin and Obi-Wan in. I want to give Anakin a padawan Let's take that girl there.
 * early 2008 development of Clone Wars, per page 275 of How Star Wars Conquered the Universe by Chris Taylor

 * Anakin Skywalker has a Padawan. Anakin has a Padawan.
 * early 2008 discussion with Dave Filoni and Henry Gilroy

 * It's Star Wars starring an eleven-year-old girl
 * 3 April 2008 at Cartoon Network's Upfront

2010s

 * Pleasure's fun. It's great, but you can't keep it going forever; just accept the fact that it's here and it's gone, and maybe then again, it will come back, and you'll get to do it again. Joy lasts forever. Pleasure is purely self-centered. It's all about your pleasure: it's about you. It's a selfish, self-centered emotion, that is created by a self-centered motive of greed. Joy is compassion. Joy is giving yourself to somebody else, or something else. And it's a kind of thing that is, in its subtlety and lowness, much more powerful than pleasure. You get hung up on pleasure; you're doomed. If you pursue joy; you will find everlasting happiness.
 * Academy of Achievement Address, published by Corporate Valley (12 August 2013)

 * In the world we live in - and the system we've created for ourselves, in terms of it's a big industry - you cannot lose money. So the point is that you're forced to make a particular kind of movie. And I used to say this all the time, with people, you know, back when Russia was the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, and they'd say: "Oh, but aren’t you so glad that you're in America?" And I'd say: "Well, I know a lot of Russian filmmakers and they have a lot more freedom than I have. All they have to do is be careful about criticizing the government. Otherwise, they can do anything they want".
 * Interview with Charlie Rose (15 December 2015)

Quotes about George Lucas

 * [P]eople are still asking me if I knew Star Wars was going to be that big of a hit. Yes, of course I knew. We all knew. The only one who didn’t know was George Lucas. We kept it from him, because we wanted to see what his face looked like when it changed expression—and he fooled us even then. He got Industrial Light and Magic to change his facial expression for him[,] and THX sound to make the noise of a face-changing expression. Not only was he virtually expressionless in those days, but he also hardly talked at all. His only two directions to the three of us in the first film were "faster" and "more intense."
 * Carrie Fisher, Wishful Drinking, Chapter 5: "Accumulations of Incarnations" (2008)

title: George Lucas