Burroughs is the greatest satirical writer since Jonathan Swift.

Let nature do the freezing and frightening and isolating in this world. let men work and love and fight it off.

Life must be rich and full of loving--it's no good otherwise, no good at all, for anyone.

He seems to me to be headed for his ideal fate, which is compulsive psychosis dashed with a jigger of psychopathic irresponsibility and violence

Listen closely... the eternal hush of silence goes on and on throughout all this, and has been going on, and will go on and on. This is because the world is nothing but a dream and is just thought of and the everlasting eternity pays no attention to it.

Don't touch me, I'm full of snakes.

You aren't ever going to be anything in this world unless you do what you want to do, when you want to do it--don't plan anything, just go out and do it.