Quotes from Ken Kesey

I love them but I cannot give myself for them.

but mostly, I guess, I want to really mean something to somebody

This kept happening, off and on. It'd be bright for a little bit, everything shining like chrome, waxy-looking, polished, then go dark as muddy water.

Never before did I realize that mental illness could have the aspect of power, power. Think of it: perhaps the more insane a man is, the more powerful he could become.

Two whores on their way down from Portland to take us deep-sea fishing in a boat! It made it tough to stay in bed until the dorm lights came on at six-thirty

Wieczorem w przeddzieÅ" wyprawy le?aÅ'em w Å'ó?ku, rozmyÅ›lajÄ…c o mojej gÅ'uchocie, o latach udawania , ?e nie sÅ'yszÄ™ ani sÅ'owa, i zastanawiaÅ'em siÄ™, czy potrafiÅ'bym siÄ™ zachowywa? inaczej. A potem przypomniaÅ'em sobie, ?e to nie ja zaczÄ…Å'em udawa? gÅ'uchego, to ludzie zaczÄ™li traktowa? mnie jak durnia, który nie sÅ'yszy, nie widzie i nie potrafi wydusi? z siebie sÅ'owa.

It's gonna burn me just that way, finally telling about all this, about the hospital, and her, and the guys- and about McMurphy. I been silent so long now it's gonna roar out of me like floodwaters and you think the guy telling my God; you think this is too horrible to have really happened, this is too awful to be truth! But, please. It's still hard for me to have a clear mind thinking about it. But it's the truth even if it didn't happen.

Not that it was a hard country, but something you must go through a winter of to understand. But that's what you did not know. You knew the cursed look of wanderlust but you did not know the hell that lust was leading you into. You must go through a winter first. . . .

How," the moon whispered, "can you be sure it is lost? Until you try to find it?

Viv feels the hand go bloodless and numb against her neck; startled, she turns to look at his face. There is no expression at all. For a moment he is gone from his face, as though he had fallen somewhere inward, away from her and the old man and the fire, into a remote pool of himself

Poate ca omul, cu cat e mai nebun, cu atat poate deveni mai puternic.

He throws the torn paper from his window into the October breeze and returns to bed. He falls asleep watching the little fragment of light vibrate across his wall, thinking how much more efficient it would be filling an hourglass with photons instead of those unruly grains of sand.

It was strange to hear that voice, soft and soothing and warm as a pillow, coming out of a face hard as porcelain.

Now they tell me a psychopath's a guy fights too much and fucks too much, but they ain't wholly right, do you think?

I let the mop push me back to the wall and smile and try to foul her equipment up as much as possible by not letting her see my eyes - they can't tell so much about you if you got your eyes closed.

Those who had been in on the night started telling about it with a kind of quiet pride and wonder, the way people tell about seeing a big hotel fire or a dam bursting — very solemn and respectful because the casualties aren't even counted yet — but the longer the telling went on, the less solemn the fellows got.

It has been often said that power corrupts. But it is perhaps equally important to realize that weakness, too, corrupts. Power corrupts the few, while weakness corrupts the many. Hatred, malice, rudeness, intolerance, and suspicion are the fruits of weakness. The resentment of the weak does not spring from any injustice done to them but from the sense of their inadequacy and impotence.

Lufa drgala mi jak pies srajacy pestkami brzoskwin

I still had my own notions. How McMurphy was a giant come out of the sky to save us from the combine that was networking the land with copper wire and crystal

Tingle, ting-le, tang-le toes, she's a good fisherman, catches hens, puts 'em inna pens…wire blier, limber lock, three geese inna flock…one flew east, one flew west, one flew over the cuckoo's nest…O-U-T spells out…goose swoops down and plucks you out.

wy, dziwki, nawet sie nie pchajcie, chyba ze macie cycki jak melony i mocne, zgrabne, biale nogi dostatecznie dlugie, zeby owinac nimi jego potezne plecy, a cipy gorace, soczyste i slodkie jak miod...

uboga siedziba mej zmarnowanej mlodosci.

Rany, nawet chinscy komunisci niejednego by sie mogli od siostry nauczyc!

One of you guys, for cryin' out loud! This is where you get the edge, don't you see that? We have to do this—or we're whipped! Don't a one of you clucks know what I'm talking about enough to give us a hand? You, Gabriel? George? No? You, Chief, what about you?