She touched the edge of its voluptuous field, knowing it would be lovely beyond dreams simply to submit to it; that not gravity's pull, laws of ballistics, feral ravening, promised more delight. She tested it, shivering: I am meant to remember. Each clue that comes is supposed to have its own clarity, its fine chances for permanence. But then she wondered if the gemlike "clues" were only some kind of compensation. To make up for her having lost the direct, epileptic Word, the cry that might abolish the night.
Thomas PynchonSo generation after generation of men in love with pain and passivity serve out their time in the Zone, silent, redolent of faded sperm, terrified of dying, desperately addicted to the comforts others sell them, however useless, ugly or shallow, willing to have life defined for them by men whose only talent is for death.
Thomas PynchonThere was no difference between the behavior of a god and the operations of pure chance.
Thomas PynchonInformation. What's wrong with dope and women? Is it any wonder the world's gone insane, with information come to be the only real medium of exchange?
Thomas PynchonMy belief is that "recluse" is a code word generated by journalists... meaning, "doesn't like to talk to reporters."
Thomas PynchonI mean what they and their hired psychiatrists call delusional systems. Needless to say, โdelusionsโ are always officially defined. We do not have to worry about questions of real or unreal. They only talk out of expediency. Itโs the system that matters. How the data arrange themselves inside it. Some are consistent, others fall apart.
Thomas PynchonI 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.
Thomas Pynchon