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essay
“It was far easier to imagine the annihilation of one's entire family than to picture things that now belonged to a distant, impossible past, say an array of bottles of imported liquors in a Ginza shopwindow, or the sight of neon signs flickering in the night sky over the Ginza. As a result our imagination confined itself to easier paths. Imagination like this, which follows the path of least resistance, has no connection with coldness of heart, no matter how cruel it may appear. It is nothing but the product of a lazy, tepid mind.”
― Confessions of a Mask
― Confessions of a Mask
“Science fiction acts best as a guide to help people cope with the present. It should sharpen our concern and ability to handle current problems. It shouldn't just be an escape.”
―
―
“The cyclist is immunized against all dangers: One may call him a scoundrel, parasite, swindler, profiteer, it all runs off him like water off a raincoat. But hit him with your car and you will be astonished at how he recoils, how injured he is, how he suddenly shrinks back: "I've been runover!”
―
―
“I got to my place late one night. I was really beat. Getting that key out and into the door was about the last of me. I walked into the bedroom and there was Fay in bed reading the New Yorker and eating chocolates. She didn't even say hello.
I walked into the kitchen and looked for something to eat.
There was nothing in the refrigerator. I decided to pour myself a glass of water. I walked to the sink. It was stopped-up with garbage. Fay liked to save empty jars and jar lids. The dirty dishes filled half the sink and on top of the water, along with a few paper plates, floated these jars and jar lids.
I walked back into the bedroom just as Fay was putting a chocolate in her mouth.
"Look, Fay," I said, "I know you want to save the world. But can't you start in the kitchen ?"
"Kitchens aren't important," she said.”
― Post Office
I walked into the kitchen and looked for something to eat.
There was nothing in the refrigerator. I decided to pour myself a glass of water. I walked to the sink. It was stopped-up with garbage. Fay liked to save empty jars and jar lids. The dirty dishes filled half the sink and on top of the water, along with a few paper plates, floated these jars and jar lids.
I walked back into the bedroom just as Fay was putting a chocolate in her mouth.
"Look, Fay," I said, "I know you want to save the world. But can't you start in the kitchen ?"
"Kitchens aren't important," she said.”
― Post Office
“Moor was a thin young man with blond hair that was habitually somewhat long. He had pale blue eyes and very white skin. There were dark patches under his eyes and two deep lines around the mouth. He looked like a child, and at the same time like a prematurely aged man. His face showed the ravages of the death process, the inroads of decay in flesh cut off from the living charge of contact. Moor was motivated, literally kept alive and moving, by hate, but there was no passion or violence in his hate. Moor's hate was a slow, steady push, weak but infinitely persistent, waiting to take advantage of any weakness in another. The slow drip of Moor's hate had etched the lines of decay in his face. He had aged without experience of life, like a piece of meat rotting on a pantry shelf.”
― Queer
― Queer
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No fun allowed. Reading top 100 books from the /lit/ chart.
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Welcome to the Philip K. Dick discussion group. Have fun and be creative. Choose ALL to view all discussions.
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Goodreads Librarians are volunteers who help ensure the accuracy of information about books and authors in the Goodreads' catalog. The Goodreads Libra ...more
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