Quotes from Tom Robbins

The hippopotamus is a vegetarian but ferociously territorial (you might find that true of certain vegans you know), and will flip a raft or bite it in half: once one is in the water, the crocodiles show up like a bunch of starving hobos descending on a boxcar full of fried chicken.

The uncle ignored Gracie's father. 'In any event,' he went on, 'when brewers combine hops with yeast and grain and water, and allow the mixture to ferment -- to rot -- it magically produces an elixir so gassy with blue-collar cheer, so regal with glints of gold, so titillating with potential mischief, so triumphantly refreshing, that it seizes the soul and thrusts it toward that ethereal plateau where, to paraphrase Baudelaire, all human whimsies float and merge.

But the most insidious and dangerous of false religions is secular humanism. It's so crafty, so sneaky, with its kindness and its decency, that only Satan hisself could've come up with it.

Can't they comprehend that not ever'thing's done for a paycheck? That sometimes you just make a thing 'cause you wanna see how it'll turn out, 'cause you have a feeling in your gut that it oughta be made?

On the subject of Egypt, Ellen Cherry was so vague she thought Ramses II was a jazz piano player. From that, we might conclude that she was equally dumb about jazz.

We each took a fierce delight in introducing the other to some new idea or development, the next amazing artist or record album, always hustling to out-avant the other's garde.

Liberty, the very opposite of ownership and control, cannot, then, result from political action, either at the polls or the barricades, but rather evolves out of attitude. If it results from anything, it may be levity.

It's been said that golf is a Zen activity. I'd argue that if golfers were practicing Zen, they wouldn't keep score.

I've begun to picture my abdominal cavity occupied instead by a single glowing globe

A better world has gotta start somewhere. Why not with you and me?

Twenty candles on a cake. Twenty Camels in a package. Twenty centuries under our belts and where do we go from here?

The function of the artist," the Navajo answered, "is to provide what life does not.

Can I drink more than one mai tai without taking on the aroma of an aroused butterly?

Io? Io rappresento incertezza, insicurezza, sorpresa, disordine, assenza di legge, cattivo gusto, divertimento e ciò che di notte fa bum.

It might be noted here that Freudian analysts of fairy tales have suggested that kissing toads and frogs is symbolized fellatio. In that regard, Princess Leigh-Cheri was, on a conscious level, innocent, although not so naive as Queen Tilli, who thought fellatio was an obscure Italian opera and was annoyed that she couldn't find the score.

Kat? gerçekler hayat?n tek gerçekleri deÄŸil. Pek çok ve çeÅŸitli gerçekler vard?. Ä°nsan enerjisini doÄŸru odaklayabilirs, hangi gerçekte yaÅŸamak istiyorsa, belli bir noktaya kadar, onu seçmeyi baÅŸarabilirdi. Belki gerçeklerin en kat?s?ndan bile kurnaz davranabilir, onu bile yenebilirdi.

He felt that since energy was the only permanent thing in the universe, it was the most (if not only) significant thing.

Amanda became pregnant during a fierce thunderstorm. "Was it the lightning or the lover?" she was sometimes heard to muse. When her son was born with electrical eyes, people no longer thought her foolish.

My grandmother, he said, confessed to me once that before she'd ever let herself become deeply involved with a man, she'd make sure to get him drunk. Maestra claims you can never know who a person really is unless you've seen how they behave when under the spell of Bacchus. It's a hard and fast rule with no exceptions: a bad drunk will make a bad husband. Or wife, for that matter. Sobriety for some people, is a thin and temporary disguise.

In the novels he was to write as an adult, transformation (along with liberation and celebration) was a major theme.

Jerusalem was where it all went down, man. It was connected to heaven like Spanish Harlem was connected to Puerto Rico.

Tequila, scorpion honey, harsh dew of the doglands, essence of Aztec, crema de cacti; tequila, oily and thermal like the sun in solution; tequila, liquid geometry of passion; Tequila, the buzzard god who copulates in midair with the ascending souls of dying virgins; tequila, firebug in the house of good taste; O tequila, savage water of sorcery, what confusion and mischief your sly, rebellious drops do generate!

So it was that neither for the first time nor the last my verbal mojo, my knack for the written word, served to save my reckless ass.

Was it wife soup and husband soup on the Other Side? Or was it simply soup?