The job of the writer is to kiss no ass, no matter how big and holy and white and tempting and powerful. — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
The flock gets sight of a spot of blood on some chicken and they all go to peckin' at it, see, till they rip the chicken to shreds, blood and bones and feathers. But usually a couple of the flock… — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
“Time overlaps itself. A breath breathed from a passing breeze is not the whole wind, neither is it just the last of what has… — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
“Okay, stand outa the way. Sometimes when I go to exertin' myself I use up all the air nearby and grown men faint from… — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
There's something about taking a plow and breaking new ground. It gives you energy. — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
The best of all possible cages.' Ben stepped back to regard the job with a sad smile. 'What more can one ask? — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
That ain't me, that ain't my face. It wasn't even me when I was trying to be that face. I wasn't even really me… — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
But if the strength ain't real, I recall thinking the very last thing that day, before I finally passed out, then the weakness sure… — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
“They think they know the book by its cover, but the book knows what it is. Now he knew better; if the book never… — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
More was revealed in a human face than a human being can bear face to face. — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
If this glorious birth to death hassle is the only hassle we are ever to have ..if our grand exhilarating fight of life is… — Ken Kesey Copy Share Image
