“Can I say something out loud? Is anybody listening?" "Everybody. Nobody. Does it matter?” — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“There is no literature and art without paranoia. Probably there would be even civilization. Paranoia is the world. It is the attempt… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
Behind the hieroglyphic streets there would either be a transcendent meaning, or only the earth. — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
Not me, paranoia's the garlic in life's kitchen, right, you can never have too much. — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“Paranoids are not paranoid because they're paranoid, but because they keep putting themselves, fucking idiots, deliberately into paranoid situations.” — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“For there either was some Tristero beyond the appearance of the legacy America, or there was just America, and if there was… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“Not quite like my mother’s, but still a real ‘trip,’” Bigfoot confided, “though what I really go for here is the respect.”… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
If there is something comforting - religious, if you want - about paranoia, there is still also anti-paranoia, where nothing is connected… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“How strange tonight, this city. As if something trembled below its surface, waiting to burst through.” — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“It was one of those great iron afternoons in London: the yellow sun being teased apart by a thoasand chimneys breathing, fawning upward without… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“Surely for as long as there have been nights as bad as this one---something to raise the possibility of another night that could actually,… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“People read what news they wanted to and each accordingly built his own rathouse of history's rags and straws.” — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“Out of that night and day of unconditional wrath, folks would've expected to see any city, if it survived, all newly reborn, purified by… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“As spread thighs are to the libertine...so was the letter V to young Stencil.” — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“Oedipa wondered whether, at the end of this (if it were supposed to end), she too might not be left with only compiled memories… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don't have to worry about answers. — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“remember didn't you sneak away from camp to have a moment alone with What you felt stirring across the land . . . it… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“Through rain...then through dreaming glass, green with the evening. And herself in chair, old-fashioned, bonneted, looking west over the deck of Earth, inferno red… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“She knew instinctively: he will be fine as the fraternity boy just out of an Ivy League school who knows he will never stop… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
“Listen to anything and take it apart again. Spectrum analysis, in my head. I can break down chords, and timbres, and words too into… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share
