There's something about taking a plow and breaking new ground. It gives you energy.

But the more I read... after awhile... I begin to find they were all writing about the same thing, this same dull old here-today-gone-tomorrow scene... Shakespeare, Milton, Matthew Arnold, even Baudelaire, even this cat whoever he was that wrote Beowulf... the same scene for the same reasons and to the same end, whether it was Dante with his pit or Baudelaire with his pot... the same dull old scene...

To Vik Lovell who told me dragons did not exist, then led me to their lairs.

You're making sense, old man, a sense of your own. You're not crazy the way they think. Yes...I see.

Things you think you're saying for the first time ever, have been said better before by Shakespeare, though they may need saying again.

It's time to move on to the next step in the psychedelic revolution. We've reached a certain point, but we're not moving any more.

The most work he did on [the urinals] was to run a brush once or twice apiece, singing some song as loud as he could in time to the swishing brush; then he'd splash in some Clorox and he'd be through. ... And when the Big Nurse...came in to check McMurphy's cleaning assignment personally, she brought a little compact mirror and she held it under the rim of the bowls. She walked along shaking her head and saying, "Why, this is an outrage... an outrage..." at every bowl. McMurphy sidled right along beside her, winking down his nose and saying in answer, "No; that's a toilet bowl...a TOILET bowl.