A sneeze travels at a peak velocity of two hundred miles per hour. A burp, more slowly; a fart, slower yet. But a kiss thrown by fingers- its departure is sudden, its arrival ambiguous, and there is no source that can state with authority what speeds are reached in its flight.
In school you learn that it is the thumb that separates human beings from the lower primates. The thumb is an evolutionary triumph. Because of his thumbs, man can use tools; because he can use tools he can extend his senses, control his environment and increase in sophistication and power. The thumb is the cornerstone of civilization!
The Earth is God's pinball machine and each quake, tidal wave, flash flood and volcanic eruption is the result of a TILT that occurs when God, cheating, tries to win free games.
Your author has found love to be the full trip, emotionally speaking; the grand tour: fall in love, visit both Heaven and Hell for the price of one.
Like the Arthurian years at Camelot, the Sixties constituted a breakthrough, a fleeting moment of glory, a time when a significant little chunk of humanity briefly realised its moral potential and flirted with its neurological destiny, a collective spiritual awakening that flared brilliantly until the barbaric and mediocre impulses of the species drew tight once more the curtains of darkness.
There is a comfort in conformity, a security in control, that is appealing. There is a thrill in domination, and we are all secretly attracted to violence.
Outlaws, like lovers, poets, and tubercular composers who cough blood onto piano keys, do their finest work in the slippery rays of the moon.
All a person can do in this life is gather about him his integrity, his imagination, and his individuality - and with these ever with him, out front and in sharp focus, leap into the dance of experience.
In times of widespread chaos and confusion, it has been the duty of more advanced human beings--artists, scientists, clowns and philosophers--to create order. In times such as ours, however, when there is too much order, too much management, too much programming and control, it becomes the duty of superior men and women to fling their favorite monkey wrenches into the machinery. To relive the repression of the human spirit, they must sow doubt and disruption.
The enemy is the tyranny of the dull mind.
A sense of humor, properly developed, is superior to any religion so far devised.
Magic things are fond of deceptions.
Those who possess wisdom cannot just ladle it out to every wantwit and jackanapes who comes along and asks for it. A person must be prepared to receive wisdom, or else it will do him more harm than good. Moreover, a lout thrashing about in the clear waters of wisdom will dirty those waters for everyone else.
People are never perfect, but love can be.
Anarchy is like custard cooking over a flame; it has to be constantly stirred or it sticks and gets heavy, like government.
In times such as ours, however, when there is too much order, too much management, too much programming and control, it becomes the duty of superior men and women to fling their favorite monkey wrenches into the machinery.
There have been cans of dog food more splendiferous than South Richmond. Land mines more tender.
A sense of humor...is superior to any religion so far devised.
Never underestimate how much assistance, how much satisfaction, how much comfort, how much soul and transcendence there might be in a well-made taco and a cold bottle of beer.
When we accept small wonders, we qualify ourselves to imagine great wonders.
Political activism is seductive because it seems to offer the possibility that one can improve society, make things better, without going through the personal ordeal of rearranging one's perceptions and transforming one's self.
Be your own flying saucer! Rescue yourself!
Let us live for the beauty of our own reality.
They accepted my donation, so they're aware they'd better serve my interests or I'll buy some leadership that will.
All dreams continue in the beyond.
On their sofas of spice and feathers, the concubines also slept fretfully. In those days the Earth was still flat, and people dreamed often of falling over edges.
White folks have controlled New Orleans with money and guns, black folks have controlled it with magic and music, and although there has been a steady undercurrent of mutual admiration, an intermingling of cultures unheard of in any other American city, South or North; although there has prevailed a most joyous and fascinating interface, black anger and white fear has persisted, providing the ongoing, ostensibly integrated fete champetre with volatile and sometimes violent idiosyncrasies.
Society had a crime problem. It hired cops to attack crime. Now society has a cop problem.
Beer does not satisfy magic, however. So the magic ordered a round of Harvey Wallbangers. But it takes more than vodka to fuel magic. It takes risks. It takes EXTREMES.
They caressed one another until their hides shone. They embraced until their 206 bones squeaked like mice. Their bed was a boat in a weird sea.
Birth and death were easy. It was life that was hard.
Only the young and the beautiful should be allowed to fuck.
Alas, Gulietta, this was an American frog of the last quarter of the twentieth century, a time when wishing apparently no longer led to anything, and Leigh-Cheri eventually named it Prince Charming after that son-of-a-bitch who never comes though.
Some folks hide, and some folks seek, and seeking, when it's mindless, neurotic, desperate, or pusillanimous can be a form of hiding.
Civilization is a mutant beast that emerged from the shattered egg of primitive stability.-Sissy Hankshaw
Love easily confuses us because it is always in flux between illusion and substance, between memory and wish, between contentment and need.
Time brought along its secretary, memory, and space brought its brat, loneliness.
Breathe properly. Stay curious. And eat your beets.
Our individuality is all, all, that we have. There are those who barter it for security, those who repress it for what they believe is the betterment of the whole society, but blessed in the twinkle of the morning star is the one who nurtures it and rides it in, in grace and love and wit, from peculiar station to peculiar station along life's bittersweet route.
As they say in my country, have a nice day.
The full moon - the mandala of the sky.
Cries for help are frequently inaudible.
To live fully, one must be free, but to be free one must give up security. Therefore, to live one must be ready to die. How's that for a paradox?
Death is impatient and thoughtless. It barges into your room when you are right in the middle of something, and it doesn't bother to wipe its boots.
She continued weeping until the heat of her tear water, the sheer velocity of its flow, finally obscured the already vague circumstances of its origins.
If this typewriter can't do it, then fuck it, it can't be done.
The only question is how to make love stay.
More Tom Robbins Quotations (Based on Topics)
Love - People - Society & Civilization - Life - Mind - World - Death & Dying - Man - Time - Sense & Perception - Imagination & Visualization - Beauty - Jokes & Humor - Tom) Robbins Quotes on Politics - Perfection - God - Idea - Duty - Wisdom & Knowledge - View All Tom Robbins Quotations
More Tom Robbins Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Even Cowgirls Get the Blues
- Jitterbug Perfume
- Still Life with Woodpecker
Og Mandino - Mark Twain - F. Scott Fitzgerald - Suze Orman - Robert Fitzgerald - Jules Verne - James Allen - Emily Post - Charles Bukowski - Alvin Toffler