If I had more time I would write a shorter letter.
I think confusion is the truth, except sometimes when I'm feeling it, ha ha.
Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.
Philip K. Dick
Be realistic - demand the impossible!
Anonymous graffiti, Paris 1968
Even if there's a secret one-world government controlling it all, I'm having an okay time.
Committees kill not only their members but all of their ideas.
Institutions will try to preserve the problem to which they are the solution.
It occurred to me that eating is the only form of professionalism most people ever attain.
The three most harmful addictions are heroin, carbohydrates, and a monthly salary.
Nassim Nicholas Taleb
We do not think our way to right action. We act our way to right thinking.
It's all, all, all in together now / We gettin paid gettin dressed for the weather now
Ol' Dirty Bastard
Don't you know that four fifths of all our troubles in this life would disappear if we would just sit down and keep still?
I do not take a single newspaper, nor read one a month, and I feel myself infinitely the happier for it.
Of all lies, art is the least untrue.
Novelists are people who have discovered that they can dampen their neuroses by writing make-believe. We will keep doing that no matter what, while offering loftier explanations.
It's a mistake for a sculptor or a painter to speak or write very often about his job. It releases tension needed for his work.
Once you label me you negate me.
Let us make a special effort to stop communicating with each other, so we can have some conversation.
People in love are in fact condemned to go on learning the other's language indefinitely, groping around, seeking out the keys - keys that are always revocable. Love is a labyrinth of misunderstandings whose way out doesn't exist.
Man's maturity: to have regained the seriousness that he had as a child at play.
The greatest works convert us to their aesthetic faith.
We're trying to build birds, not birdhouses.
I was heartened, a few months ago, to discover in the journals of Ralph Waldo Emerson that a decade before he died, he realized that a safer way to read a Shakespeare play is backwards; otherwise, the interest of the story is sadly in the way of poetry.
If you're not failing every now and again, it's a sign you're not doing anything very innovative.
Style is repetition.
The matured idea is enough in itself to destroy most people.
I was surprised he did that... I was ready for it.
If it is familiar, it has not eaten you yet.
When the meaning is too full for myth to be able to invade it, myth goes around it, and carries it away bodily.
I'll gamble on heads, they last longer.
Be in the middle of things, but be in the center of nothing.
But I was often taught that everything is worth it for art. Everything. It was a cult.
One thing to remember: You are no more special for putting your pen to paper than anyone with lungs.
To what are we dedicated if not to those problems which demand the very transformation of our body and our language?
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
This is the beginning of true modernity: to experience your own cultural background as ultimately contingent, irrelevant.
I had a teacher I liked who used to say good fiction's job was to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. I guess a big part of serious fiction's purpose is to give the reader, who like all of us is sort of marooned in her own skull, to give her imaginative access to other selves. Since an ineluctable part of being a human self is suffering, part of what we humans come to art for is an experience of suffering, necessarily a vicarious experience, more like a sort of "generalization" of suffering. Does this make sense? We all suffer alone in the real world; true empathy's impossible. But if a piece of fiction can allow us imaginatively to identify with a character's pain, we might then also more easily conceive of others identifying with our own. This is nourishing, redemptive; we become less alone inside. It might be just that simple.
David Foster Wallace
We will be soldiers, so our sons may be farmers, so their sons may be artists.
However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.
You are going to feel pain. But the question is: are you going to suffer?
We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different.
People are standing in line for a hot dog?
The problem with the Milky Way is that we are inside the Milky Way.
There is a lesson in vomiting—when the mind finally forgets, the body remembers.
What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence.