Quotes from Tom Robbins

On the subject of Egypt, Ellen Cherry was so vague she thought Ramses II was a jazz piano player.

soul-searcher in scientist's clothing, but you're wasting your time. Science is an active response to the world. Mysticism accepts the world. Mystics scurry about trying to get in harmony with nature. Scientists turn nature to issues which we define. Science is resistance, rather than acceptance, and

Time, in his view, was a short, sloppy path from Eve's crayon box to the Messiah's fire box.

Spring has a way of erasing doubt.

It was encouraging that he would mention a contemporary female, for Pan had begun to live in his memories, an unhealthy symptom in anyone, suggesting as it does that life has peaked. Every daydream that involves the past sports in its hatband a ticket to the grave.

won many a beer betting that Reno, Nevada, was farther west than Los Angeles, and Portland, Oregon, farther north than Portland, Maine. (You can look it up.)

In the world according to the positivist, the inspiring thing about scrambled eggs is that anyway you turn them they are sunny side up. In the world according to the existentialist, the hopeless thing about scrambled eggs is that anyway you turn them they are scrambled.

Muddy Waters he play in the river Joan Rivers she play in the mud Swami guru play in a big salad bowl Counting lettuce and chewing his cud

The way bewilderment lies upon me, I have no need of blanket. In

Mr. and Mrs. Hankshaw were summoned from the waiting room where Saturday Evening Post fantasies had clouded their instinctive parental concern the way that Norman Rockwell's sentimental ideas cloud the purity of a blank canvas.

What is the 'direction' of the Earth in its journey; where are the atoms 'going' when they spin?

Who knows what causes the human brain to split its britches. It would seem that the brain hangs so many curtains between itself and the true universe that eventually light can no longer reach it, and it molds and rots and festers in the dark.

We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love. "There is no such thing as a weird human being, It's just that some people require more understanding than others.

C.R.A.F.T."—Can't Remember a Fucking Thing—and

Misquoted, distorted, diluted, and deified. In that order. At the hands of his worshipers, Jesus suffered a far worse fate than crucifixion. You have a lovely ass.

Whether meaningful or meaningless, the game of life is there to be played - and the animal in his animal way seems to know it and the cage is an offense to what his inner animal voice tells him is right and true.

In that nondescript period between the end of the beige fifties and the beginning of the Day-Glo sixties, I found myself drifting unfulfilled in an ocean of circumstance.

out of sight of hair smoke and lip ash and bowel cinders

We froze. The night, the earth, the universe slammed on its brakes. Time sucked on a chloroform Popsicle.

I realize that you've always avoided all but the most rudimentary involvements with men, and, I might add, you've been wise.

Madame Mayor was not amused. Or, maybe she was and just stifled her laughter. Whatever her private reaction, she suspended both combatants for six weeks. And for six weeks there was no law in La Conner. According to full-time residents, the town has never been more peaceful.

It was the premise of conference organizers that the Church's continued hostility toward women threatened both their religious lives and, due to its intractable ban on artificial birth control, their physical lives.

Lancelot Delano (that was his actual name, though his friends called him "Gumboot") was a tall, gawky youth, strong as a mule but sweet as molasses and just about as slow.

Ideas are made by masters, dogma by disciples, and the Buddha is always killed on the road.