Russell Hoban quotes:

+1
Share
Pin
Like
Send
Share
  • An idea is an eye given by God for the seeing of God. Some of these eyes we cannot bear to look out of; we blind them as quickly as possible.

  • Sometimes there's nothing but Sundays for weeks on end. Why can't they move Sunday to the middle of the week so you could put it in the OUT tray on your desk?

  • Language is an archaeological vehicle... the language we speak is a whole palimpsest of human effort and history.

  • Explorers have to be ready to die lost.

  • A map is the dead body of where you've been. A map is the unborn baby of where you're going. There are no maps. Maps are pictures of what isn't.

  • After all, when you come right down to it, how many people speak the same language even when they speak the same language?

  • Sometimes I think that the biggest difference between men and women is that more men need to seek out some terrible lurking thing in existence and hurl themselves upon it. Women know where it lives but they can let it alone.

  • But when I don't smoke I scarcely feel as if I'm living. I don't feel as if I'm living unless I'm killing myself.

  • There are situations in life to which the only satisfactory response is a physically violent one. If you don't make that response, you continually relive the unresolved situation over and over in your life.

  • There is a tiger in my room,' said Frances. 'Did he bite you?' said Father. 'No,' said Frances. 'Did he scratch you?' said Mother. 'No,' said Frances. 'Then he is a friendly tiger,' said Father. 'He will not hurt you. Go back to sleep.

  • Fidelity is a matter of perception; nobody is unfaithful to the sea or to mountains or to death: once recognized they fill the heart.

  • Life is a process of one goneness after another.

  • Nothing to be done really about animals. Anything you do looks foolish. The answer isn't in us. It's almost as if we're put here on earth to show how silly they aren't.

  • I'd always assumed I was the central character in my own story, but now it occured to me I might in fact be only a minor character in someone else's.

  • When you suffer an attack of nerves you're being attacked by the nervous system. What chance has a man got against a system?.

  • Nothing to be done really about animals. Anything you do looks foolish. The answer isn't in us. It's almost as if were put here on earth to show how silly they aren't.

  • When you suffer an attack of nerves you're being attacked by the nervous system. What chance has a man got against a system?

  • All of this comes out of what is now an empty space. There are depths to this. It's a lot to think about. From an empty space the future. If there's no empty space where can one put the future? It all figures if you take the time to think it out.

  • We make fiction because we are fiction ... It lived us into being and it lives us still.

  • A family is everybody all together.

  • An ordinary mirror is silvered at the back but the window of the night train has darkness behind the glass. My face and the faces of other travellers were now mirrored on this darkness in a succession of stillnesses. Consider this, said the darkness: any motion at any speed is a succession of stillnesses; any section through an action will show just such a plane of stillness as this dark window in which your seeking face is mirrored. And in each plane of stillness is the moment of clarity that makes you responsible for what you do.

  • And now it seems she's on my wavelength. That's all I need. My mind isn't much of a comfort to me but at least I thought it was private.

  • I believe that most of us would like to be thought well of by horses.

  • I have no wisdom and nothing useful to tell you - I only mentioned this because it came into my head.

  • If reality had a stage door I'd hang around there to see what comes out after the show.

  • Is there an existence that is only mine?

  • It's almost as if we're put here on earth to show how silly they aren't.

  • Me, what's that after all? An arbitrary limitation of being bounded by the people before and after and on either side. Where they leave off I begin, and vice versa.

  • More and more I'm aware that the permutations are not unlimited.

  • My generation was somewhat between things, neither free nor much supported by whatever held us in.

  • The sign said 'The Green Turtle, Chelonia myadas, is the source of turtle soup....' I am the source of William G. soup if it comes to that. Everyone is the source of his or her kind of soup. In a town as big as London, that's a lot of soup walking around.

  • The things that matter don't necessarily make sense.

  • The zoo is a prison for animals who have been sentenced without trial and I feel guilty because I do nothing about it. I wanted to see an oyster-catcher, so I was no better than the people who caged the oyster-catcher for me to see.

  • Them as counts counts moren them as dont count

  • There must be a lot of people in the world being wondered about by people who don't see them anymore.

  • Time's arrow, we are told, is a one-way thing. . . Memory's arrow, like the needle of a compass too close to a lodestone, spins in all directions.

  • Too-lateness, I realized, has nothing to do with age. It's a relation of self to the moment. Or not, depending on the person and the moment. Perhaps there even comes a time when it's no longer too late for anything. Perhaps, even, most times are too early for most things, and most of life has to go by before it's time for almost anything and too late for almost nothing. Nothing to lose, the present moment to gain, the integration with long-delayed Now.

  • What a weird thing smoking is and I can't stop it. I feel cosy, have a sense of well-being when I'm smoking, poisoning myself, killing myself slowly. Not so slowly maybe. I have all kinds of pains I don't want to know about and I know that's what they're from. But when I don't smoke I scarcely feel as if I'm living. I don't feel as if I'm living unless I'm killing myself.

  • Who is Alice?" asked mother. "Alice is somebody that nobody can see," said Frances. "And that is why she does not have a birthday. So I am singing Happy Thursday to her." - Frances the badger

  • Words have a life; without response they die.

+1
Share
Pin
Like
Send
Share