As if the dead really do persist, even in a bottle of wine.
("The Crying of Lot 49")
More Quotes from Thomas Pynchon:Though she knew even less about radios than about Southern Californians, there were to both outward patterns a hieroglyphic sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate.
Danger's over, Banana Breakfast is saved.
You know what a miracle is... another world's intrusion into this one.
One summer afternoon Mrs Oedipa Maas came home from a Tupperware party whose hostess had put perhaps too much kirsch in the fondue to find that she, Oedipa, had been named executor, or she supposed executrix, of the estate of one Pierce Inverarity, a California real estate mogul who had once lost two million dollars in his spare time but still had assets numerous and tangled enough to make the job of sorting it all out more than honorary.
While nobles are crying in their nights' chains, the squires sing. The terrible politics of the Grail can never touch them. Song is the magic cape.
The Santa Monica Freeway is traditionally the scene of every form of automotive folly known to man. It is not white and well-bred like the San Diego, nor as treacherously engineered as the Pasadena, nor quite as ghetto-suicidal as the Harbor. No, one hesitates to say it, but the Santa Monica is a freeway for freaks.
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I mean, my people were very, very simple. They were peasant people, you know?
James Earl Jones
Her body calculated to a millimeter to suggest a bud yet guarantee a flower.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
At Christmas play and make good cheer, for Christmas comes but once a year.