The bookstore was a parking lot for used graveyards. Thousands of graveyards were parked in rows like cars. Most of the books were out of print, and no one wanted to read them any more and the people who had… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
I daydream about a high school where everybody plays the harmonica: the students, the teachers, the principal, the janitor and the cook in the… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
“The river loved to tell everybody (everybody being the sky, the wind, the few trees that grew around there, birds, deer and even the… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
“I guess some people lived like Reader's Digest, but I hadn't met any and at that time it seemed doubtful that I ever would” — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
“The Beautiful Poem" I go to bed in Los Angeles thinking about you. Pissing a few moments ago I looked down at my penis… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
I didn't know the full dimensions of forever, but I knew it was longer than waiting for Christmas to come. — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
“Alas, Measured Perfectly" Saturday, August 25, 1888. 5:20 P.M. is the name of a photograph of two old women in a front yard, beside… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
“Congratulations," I said. "It's so wonderful to write a book." "I walked all the way here," she said. "I started at midnight. I would… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
“My Name “I guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
I had become so quiet and so small in the grass by the pond that I was barely noticeable, hardly there. I sat there… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
Once upon a time there was a dwarf knight who only had fifty words to live in and they were so fleeting that he… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
“I feel horrible. She doesn't love me and I wander around the house like a sewing machine that's just finished sewing a turd to… — Richard Brautigan Copy Share Image
