“Remember what we’re fighting for.” “I’m trying. Today I helped to kill Angel Porrua. What was he fighting for?” “Are you serious? We’re fighting for what we believe.” “But nobody believes anything! Think about it, Louisa. The Royalists don’t want… — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“Beyond the silver span of the motor bridge lay basins of cracked mud the size of ballrooms - models of a state of mind,… — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“First she would try to kill him, but failing this give him food and her body, breast-feed him back to a state of childishness… — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“I love the smell of male urine and the reek of his groin on my bath towels after he’d had a shower” — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“Overhead the sky was dull and cloudless, a bland impassive blue, more the interior ceiling of some deep irrevocable psychosis than the storm-filled celestial… — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“Recently she had become intrigued by the admiring glances of other women. The admiration of her own sex existed on a higher and more… — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“The bourgeois novel is the greatest enemy of truth and honesty that was ever invented.” — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“Jim knew that he was awake and asleep at the same time, dreaming of the war and yet dreamed of by the war.” — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“(Logically–for what had a more gloomy prognosis than life?–every morning one should say to one's friends: 'I grieve for your irrevocable death,' as to… — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“These people were the first to master a new kind of late twentieth-century life. They thrived on the rapid turnover of acquaintances, the lack… — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
“His unconscious was rapidly becoming a well-stocked pantheon of tutelary phobias and obsessions, homing onto his already over-burdened psyche like lost telepaths.” — J.G. Ballard Copy Share Image
