The Saint whose water can light lamps, the clairvoyant whose lapse in recall is the breath of God, the true paranoid for… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
There are stories, like maps that agree... too consistent among too many languages and histories to be only wishful thinking.... It is… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“As the day light left the city that night, the streetlamps were not up to anything like their usual candle-power. It was… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“Pirate and Osbie Feel are leaning on their roof-ledge, a magnificent sunset across and up the winding river, the imperial serpant, crowds… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“Remember, God didn't say, 'I'm gonna make light now,' he said, 'Let there be light.' His first act was to allow light… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
Darkness invades the dreams of the glassblower. Of all the unpleasantries his dreams grab in out of the night air, an extinguished… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“Down here everything was dark, but up there the gray conglomerate was being struck by the final light of day to an… — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“It had been dark at the beach for hours, he hadn't been smoking much and it wasn't headlights – but before she… — 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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“People read what news they wanted to and each accordingly built his own rathouse of history's rags and straws.” — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“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 Image
“As spread thighs are to the libertine...so was the letter V to young Stencil.” — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“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 Image
If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don't have to worry about answers. — Thomas Pynchon Copy Share Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
“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 Image
