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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| c9d6f09 | There was something touching about the fact that Murray was dressed almost totally in corduroy. | humor | Don DeLillo | |
| 239cf6d | If this makes me sexier then where are you going? | Don DeLillo | ||
| 7dabc76 | I am advising you in this matter not only as your chief of finance, but as a woman who would still be married to her husbands if they had looked at her the way you have looked at me here today. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 3c85d81 | Decorative gestures add romance to a life. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 84ae70c | The question of dying becomes a wise reminder. It cures us of our innocence of the future. | Don DeLillo | ||
| f74c4dd | i want to eat lunch. you want to eat lunch. we're people in the world. we need to eat and talk."_Eric Packer" | don-delillo | Don DeLillo | |
| c1303b0 | I went to the room in Great Jones Street, a small crooked room, cold as a penny, looking out on warehouses, trucks and rubble. There was snow on the windowledge. Some rags and an unloved ruffled shirt of mine had been stuffed into places where the window frame was warped and cold air entered. The refrigerator was unplugged, full of record albums, tapes, and old magazines. I went to the sink and turned on both taps all the way, drawing an in.. | bowery east-village houston noho | Don DeLillo | |
| 96e8e65 | The genius of the primitive mind is that it can render human helplessness in noble and beautiful ways. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 8b09022 | He is just a running boy, a half-seen figure from the streets, but the way running reveals some clue to being, the way a runner bares himself to consciousness, this is how the dark-skinned kid seems to open to the world, how the bloodrush of a dozen strides brings him into eloquence. | Don DeLillo | ||
| b33507d | Nothingness is staring you in the face. Utter and permanent oblivion. You will cease to be. To be, Jack. The dier accepts this and dies. The killer, in theory, attempts to defeat his own death by killing others. He buys time, he buys life. - Murray (WN 291) | Don DeLillo | ||
| 20cfd3c | It is the violent act that makes history and changes everything that came before. (154) | Don DeLillo | ||
| 02076f1 | But that's why you built the towers, isn't it? Weren't the towers built as fantasies of wealth and power that would one day become fantasies of destruction? You build a thing like that so you can see it come down. The provocation is clear. What other reason would there be to go so high and then to double it, do it twice? It's a fantasy, so why not do it twice? You are saying, Here it is, bring it down. | Don DeLillo | ||
| dac9c9c | They had to evacuate the grade school on Tuesday. Kids were getting headaches and eye irritations, tasting metal in their mouths. A teacher rolled on the floor and spoke foreign languages. No one knew what was wrong. Investigators said it could be the ventilating system, the paint or varnish, the foam insulation, the electrical insulation, the cafeteria food, the rays emitted by microcomputers, the asbestos fireproofing, the adhesive on shi.. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 7c4ada5 | We commit our crimes at night and reveal ourselves in the high noon of studio lights. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 2507fdb | There was something theatrical about the protest, ingratiating even. . . . There was a shadow of transaction between the demonstrators and the state. The protest was a form of systemic hygiene, purging and lubricating. It attested again, for the ten thousandth time, to the market culture's innovative brilliance, its ability to shape itself to its own flexible ends, absorbing everything around it. | protest state systems | Don DeLillo | |
| 4f692b6 | I'm a world citizen with a New York set of balls. | Don DeLillo | ||
| d49acf2 | Haven't you felt it? The loss of autonomy. The sense of being virtualized. The devices you use, the ones you carry everywhere, room to room, minute to minute, inescapably. Do you ever feel unfleshed? All the coded impulses you depend on to guide you. All the sensors in the room are watching you, listening to you, tracking your habits, measuring your capabilities. All the linked data designed to incorporate you into the megadata. Is there so.. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 7de0ff3 | Only writing could soak up his loneliness and pain. Written words could tell him who he was. | Don DeLillo | ||
| dfdad21 | Would you ask a man who bags groceries if he fears death not because it is death but because there are still some interesting groceries he would like to bag? | humour philosophical | Don DeLillo | |
| 619f19a | It is when death is rendered graphically, is televised so to speak, that you sense an eerie separation between your condition and yourself. A network of symbols has been introduced, an entire awesome technology wrested from the gods. It makes you feel like a stranger in your own dying. | postmodernism | Don DeLillo | |
| c1235da | I began to think of myself as a perennial tourist. There was something agreeable about this. To be a tourist is to escape accountability. Errors and failings don't cling to you the way they do back home. You're able to drift across continents and languages, suspending the operation of sound thought. Tourism is the march of stupidity. You're expected to be stupid. The entire mechanism of the host country is geared to travelers acting stupidl.. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 14ee1d1 | I drove all night, northeast, and once again I felt it was literature I had been confronting these past days, the archetypes of the dismal mystery, sons and daughters of the archetypes, images that could not be certain which of two confusions held less terror, their own or what their own might become if it ever faced the truth. I drove at insane speeds. | terror | Don DeLillo | |
| e9b8f8b | This was worse than a retched nightmare. It was the nightmare of real things, the fallen wonder of the world | Don DeLillo | ||
| 3a67ebc | There was religion, then there was God. Lianne wanted to disbelieve. Disbelief was the line of travel that led to clarity of thought and purpose. Or was this simply another form of superstition? She wanted to trust in the forces and processes of the natural world, this only, perceptible reality and scientific endeavor, men and women alone on earth. She knew there was no conflict between science and God. Take one with the other. But she didn.. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 5b53bae | He looked at a picture on the wall and saw everything that existed outside the room he was sitting in and the one he was trying to write about. It was a picture of fishing nets stowed in canvas baskets and it had sex, memories, cravings, names of old friends, principal rivers of the world. Writing was bad for the soul when you got right down to it. It protected your worst tendencies. Narrowed everything to failure and its devastations. Gave.. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 87ad87c | Find someone to push him ever sunward. There's always something you're not supposed to see but it is a condition of growing up that you will see it. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 4bd5229 | She was the one, I decided, who would guide me into the vortex of the cliche. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 4a6e87a | That clean but lonely feeling when there are no other cars. The traffic lights changing just for you. | don-delillo hysteria jack-ruby libra modernity | Don DeLillo | |
| 3385b7e | We all know how the thing we secretly fear is not a secret at all but the open and eternal thing that predicts its own recurrence. | Don DeLillo | ||
| be00c13 | Once out of the mailroom, I began to learn more about fear. As soon as fear begins to ascend, anatomically, from the pit of the stomach to the throat and brain, from fear of violence to the more nameless kind, you come to believe you are part of a horrible experiment. I learned to distrust those superiors who encouraged independent thinking. When you gave it to them, they returned it in the form of terror, for they knew that ideas, only tha.. | fiction organization | Don DeLillo | |
| 3b954ec | I feel artificially myself. I'm someone who's supposed to be me. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 5761d63 | When it rains out, it also rains in. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 1b2f7db | The whole country's going to puke blood when they read it. | Don DeLillo | ||
| f234b5d | There's a kind of theology at work here. The bombs are a kind of god. As his power grows, our fear naturally increases. I get as apprehensive as anyone else, maybe more so. We have too many bombs. They have too many bombs. There's a kind of theology of fear that comes out of this. We begin to capitulate to the overwhelming presence. It's so powerful. It dwarfs us so much. We say let the god have his way. He's so much more powerful than we a.. | Don DeLillo | ||
| dcd3acb | Think of two parallel lines. [...] One is the life of Lee H. Oswald. One is the conspiracy to kill the President. What bridges the space between them? What makes a connection inevitable? There is a third line. It comes out of dreams, visions, intuitions, prayers, out of the deepest levels of the self. It's not generated by cause and effect like the other two lines. It's a line that cuts across causality, cuts across time. It has no history .. | Don DeLillo | ||
| 0b607db | If the world is where we hide from ourselves, what do we do when the world is no longer accessible? We invent a false name, invent a destiny, purchase a firearm through the mail. (148) | Don DeLillo | ||
| c506ea7 | Isn't death a blessing? Doesn't it define the value of our lives, minute to minute, year to year? | Don DeLillo | ||
| 243ddbc | But how you'd please me, night! without those stars Whose light speaks in a language I have known! Since I seek for the black, the blank, the bare! | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| 1279e8f | In fact a favourite problem of is--Given the molecular forces in a mutton chop, deduce Hamlet or Faust therefrom. He is confident that the Physics of the Future will solve this easily. | faust favorite forces future goethe hamlet johann-wolfgang-von-goethe john-tyndall physics problem science shakespeare tyndall william-shakespeare | Thomas Henry Huxley | |
| a172401 | I hum some secret place into being, thinking of this other me, the one that only I can see, a girl called She, who is not We, a girl who I will never be. | Lori Lansens | ||
| 9271612 | Aunt Lovey used to tell me that if I wanted to be a writer, I needed a writer's voice. 'Read,' she'd say, 'and if you have a writer's voice, one day it will shout out, 'I can do that too! | Lori Lansens | ||
| cb726e7 | Still, I'm not convinced that you were right, Dai--that it's such a bad thing, a useless enterprise to reel and reel out my memory at night. Some part of me, the human part of me, is kept alive by this, I think. Like water flushing a wound, to prevent it from closing. I am a lucky one, like Chiyo says. I made a terrible mistake. In Gifu, in my raggedy clothes, I had an unreckonable power. I didn't know it at the time. But when I return to t.. | Karen Russell | ||
| d679c6d | Blah!' Oglivy yells, pushing Emma and me into a pile of wet leaves. We roll around, a red flail of limbs and hysterical laughter. We are all raccoon-drunk on moonlight and bloodshed and the heady, under blossom smell of the forest. I breathe in the sharp odor of cold stars and skunk, thinking, 'This is the happiest I have ever been'. I wish somebody would murder a sheep every night of my life. It feels like we are all embarking on a nightma.. | Karen Russell | ||
| 1351c64 | The Beginning of the End can feel a lot like the middle when you are living in it. When I was a kid I couldn't see any of these ridges. It was only after Swamplandia!'s fall that time folded into a story with a beginning, a middle, and an ending. If you're short on time, that would be the two-word version of our story: we fell. | Karen Russell |